


Going Through the Motions

by My_Black_Crimson_Rose6



Category: RWBY
Genre: (and I hate yandere stuff), Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Elementary School, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Backbacking around Europe, Bisexual Characters, Blood, But at one point I do mention all of the listed pairings (eventually), Children, Christmas, Clubbing, Cute Kids, Cutting, Dark Magic, F/F, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Faunus vs. Human hostility, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time, Gamers, Gangs, Homosexual characters, I like hinting at things sometimes, Leather Jackets, Letters, M/M, Mermaids & Mermen, Minor Character Death, Original Character(s), POV Second Person, Racism, Running Away, Snow forts, Some of the pairings are hinted, Supernatural Elements, Tattoos, Triggers, Tumblr Prompts, Universe Alteration, VideoGame, Yandere, fuck this new Adam Taurus, heat - Freeform, mermaid au, new and different types of Faunus, now with art, parenting done right, prompts, scarred!Adam, self discovery, triggers on chapter 29
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-01 20:03:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 51
Words: 70,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1048000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Black_Crimson_Rose6/pseuds/My_Black_Crimson_Rose6
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of one-shots and short(er) stories for the Adam/Blake couple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shame

**Author's Note:**

> Includes these series:  
> \- Sir Lamb Chop: Lamb vs. Adam  
> \- Corner Kids Crew  
> \- Letters  
> \- Collision  
> 

He brushed his hair back with his hand, minding the horns protruding from skull. He pushed the mask up onto his face covering his eyes and limiting his senses. His blood pounding loudly in his ears as he stepped out of the building with a flourish that was uniquely his own.  _She_  would have laughed at him, would have called him dramatic.

He went to work.

He did what he was good at. Keeping his mouth shut when needed and broke bones. He wasn’t just hired muscle. He was  _the_   _hired muscle_ , he was better than the rest of them. His superior didn’t have to sneer down at him when he failed his job, because he _doesn’t_  fail. He gets the job done, and dirties his hands when he needs to.

 _She_  couldn’t stand that about him. Couldn’t understand how he could just turn off that part of him, that small little part that cared for others. He never did care for many people; he cared for  _her_  and still does. But  _she_ was his partner, a friend and a—and a fellow faunus. He tsked at himself, scolding himself for thinking about  _her_  again.

 _She_  made her choice.  _She_  was the one that left him.

He shouldn’t be thinking about  _her_  again. After all, the day was only just starting and he already had blood on his hands and a foul taste on his tongue. He didn’t want to think about  _her_  as he went about such things—he wouldn’t taint  _her_  image with his reality.

 _She_ would be ashamed of him. 


	2. His Perfection

Tucking the hair behind her ear, the human one, as she regarded him with a heavy look. “Again Adam,” she sighed tabbing the cloth in the alcohol solution she held the cloth up with a raised brow. He cursed loudly when she slapped the cloth down onto his chest, a hiss escaping his clenched teeth and he closed his eyes at the sting.

“It makes me look manly—with all the scars,” he smirked once the sting grew to a mild throb. She glared pressing against the wound.

“You’re so full of shit.” Adam shrugged but reached out to touch a strand of black hair. He smiled at her and tucked it behind her ear for her. His eyes went from his fingers and how the feeling of his skin touching hers sent a shock up his arm to the bow sitting on the top of her head. “Why did you do it?” Blake asked taking the cloth away from his chest.

“What do you mean?”

Blake sighed heavily, “why did you take the hit?”

He shrugged, “the scars would look better on me than you.” He scoffed, as if his answer was the only reasonable choice. The smug look on Adam’s face dropped as his eyes softened, he continued to take in the girl—the young woman in front of him in. “I’ll rather see myself bare the reminder of our pain than have anything else scar the perfection that I call you.”

Blake swallowed, “I’m not perfect.”

The male chuckled, shaking his head at her. “You are to me,” he replied taking his hand away from her silk like hair to ball up his pant leg in a clenched fist. “In this vile world, you are the only thing good that I see.” His hand clenched and unclenched, his arm muscles flexing as he held himself back from reaching towards her. To take her in his arms; to hold her and never let her go. He wanted to take her away from this ugliness—to shy her away from the pain and the war… and from the monster that the world is making him become. “Even if you do hide my favourite part about you in a bow—”

Blake leaned away from him in shock. Her companion has never been this straight forward before—never been this… romantic? Outspoken? She couldn’t really fathom just what this was.

“—and, you know… a shirt.” The redhead threw her a smug little grin, and even had the audacity to  _wink_.

She did the only thing that she could think of in this situation—she punched him. Gave him a nice solid hit to the nose, sending him and the chair that he was sitting on over backwards to the floor with a groan. 


	3. Adam’s Journal: Entry #143

Adam’s Journal: Entry #143

_August 12 th,_

_They call us animals. I’ll show them just what kind of monster they made this animal become. You’ll hate me Blake, for everything that’ll happen. I know you will. You always say how much they don’t respect us, but fear us. I’d rather have the fear Blake._

_I’ll rather have that fear._

_Let them taste the fear that they made us live through. Let’s cut them down to size. Let’s take them from their homes and their families and enslave them. Let’s kill their families and orphan their children. Let’s steal their property. Let’s beat them in the street._

_Let’s make them eat everything they’ve ever done to our kind. They thought us weak—as animals that have no thought or feelings of their own. I’m sick of being an animal and I refuse to be one of them. I will take their fear and make that my weapon, Blake._

_I’ll become that monster that you always thought I’d become._

_I am a monster, Blake._

_And I’m proud of that._


	4. Letters Never Sent

_Dear Blake,_

_I’m sorry that I’ll never be that man that you hoped I’d be._

Adam crumpled the paper up and threw it onto the over flowing pile. His waste basket filled with unfinished letters. Every day since she left he’d write to her, a sentence or two before throwing it out. Sometimes he’d write twenty unfinished letters, sometimes more and sometimes less. The first week was the hardest. When he would catch himself turning in midsentence to glance back at her for her input, only for her to no longer be there.

_Blake,_

_I hate it. I hate that stupid bow of yours._

He crumpled that one up to.

He ripped the mask off his face and threw it across the room. He didn’t understand why he does this to himself. Why does he hold onto her when she has moved on? She got a new partner—a whole team. She was happier without him. She must not even think about him either.

Adam ground his teeth together grabbing the beer bottle beside him and he too threw that across the room. It shattered against the wall, the liquid spraying out and soaking the wall and dripped to the floor. Adam snarled grabbing another object, this time a lamp, and he threw that to. Nothing was safe from his rage; that burn in his chest and the pounding in his ears.

He knew exactly what he wanted to write to her, but he never would. It could be because he was scared, but that wasn’t it—not truly. He just didn’t want to write it because he knows she’d never see it. She’d never get to reply to it.

He kicked his sofa with lackluster, his limbs feeling heavy as his eyes pricked and grew wet. He fell to the ground as if his legs had given out and clutched his hair and covered his eyes.


	5. Spoiled

Blake liked nice things. She liked feeling spoiled at times. Growing up in the environment that they did you couldn’t hold it against her to want to be spoiled every so often. So that’s what he did. He would spoil her with small gifts—something that she’ll most likely always carry with her. He’s bought her necklaces and bracelets, and once he even gave her a ring.

He had joked about it; if he should get on his knee and swear himself to her. She had looked at him funny for a week afterwards. But she wore it—not on her ring finger, don’t think that. He should’ve though—should’ve bent a knee to her. They were both younger then, but he would’ve done it.

He should have done it.

He should have done many things. Should’ve kissed her, for one thing. He should’ve turned to her those times were see looked at him with fear in those eyes and should’ve told her: “I’d never hurt you. Ever. So stop looking at me like that.”

But he didn’t.  

He had let her continue to look at him like he was a monster—the ones that people tell their children about.  _The Faunus_. Often whispered like the name Boogieman often was to make small children fear it. Faunus wasn’t whispered it was spat and yelled, shouted at him and at them as their neighbours burned down their homes and enslaved part of their race. Faunus was thrown at them, at him, when he was beaten and forced to watched those that he cared about murdered.

Blake was spoiled in his eyes by simply not having to life in the same city as him. She was spoiled with having a nicer childhood, filled with protesting and minimum bloodshed.

But he loved her.

That’s right. He loved that little cat Faunus. That stupid girl who cared too damn much for people that hate them, and too damn much for  _people_  in general. He wasn’t one to go out and romance someone—if he knew how to properly do it without making an ass out of himself, than maybe he’d do it. But that was the problem; he didn’t grasp the concept of romance and how to go about it. Feelings regarding a woman were weird, and honestly a little terrifying.

So when he would get her something he would… well, he would kinda throw it at her while he was leaving. Yes, he did walk her home. It wasn’t right for such a pretty girl like herself to be out by herself so late at night. Especially a Faunus woman. The ring was the only thing that he actually commented about, but everything else was in the territory of ‘we-do-not-speak-of-this-EVER!’

But then came that ribbon.

That  _fucking_  ribbon.

It was as soft as how her hair looked, and it matched. And he had bought it in a heartbeat—he never stole anything that was for. She was too important to him for that. And that day he had given it to her. Adam had stopped in front of her when they met up saying, “I have something for you.” His knuckles ghosting over her cheek before pulling back her hair with such a gentle touch that even he was shocked about. He took the ribbon out and tied her hair up in a high ponytail. “You’re always complaining that your hair gets in your face,” he had said, his voice lowering with each word. He had pressed his lips against her hair that day, felt the silky strands under his fingers and against his lips.

If one were to ask Adam what his fondest memory was, that would be it.

But that bliss was short lived when the next day, and every day afterwards, Blake had tied the ribbon into a bow and used it to cover her ears. The Faunus ones. The ones that he used to love to watch twitch and flick around based off her moods and off of sounds.

He hated that bow.  

He hates it even now.


	6. The Corner Kids Crew +1

Mr. Ozpin taught the fourth grade, while Miss Glynda taught the fifth grade. They were neighbours in the school and close friends. Each year the Beacon Elementary School would  _force_  each class to perform in front of the school in the Christmas Concert. The winners would throw a class party with pizza and a movie. This year Mr. Ozpin and Miss Glynda’s class combined to form one mega class, in an effort to eliminate the other classes.

Adam thought the Christmas Concert was a joke. Everyone knew that the kindergartens or Mr. Bartholomew’s sixth grade class always won. The kindergartens had that cuteness, and the sixth graders had superior knowledge and technology. And Adam wasn’t the only one that thought this was all a joke. His friends Roman, Cinder, Junior, and the twins Melanie and Miltia agreed.

Miss Glynda had instructed them to take out a piece of paper and write any ideas that they had to do for their piece. Adam rolled his eyes at Roman; the orange haired boy snickered back at him. After writing ten ideas down on their list the class could be dismissed for early recess, but only when all of them were finished. Glynda had stared at the group in the corner with hardened eyes.

“Stupid,” Cinder hissed under her breath as she pressed down hard on her pencil as she wrote. With that said the group wrote down the first ten things that they could think off, it was half assed but they did finish first and it wasn’t like they cared.

They lounged around waiting for the rest of the class to finish. When Miss Glynda gave them the all the clear, The Corner Kids Crew all but threw themselves out of the classroom and into their snow gear before tearing down the hall.

Freedom. Good ol’ extended recess. The time were kids will be kids and snow forts were the coolest things the world. The Corner Kids (Roman, Cinder, Adam, Junior, and the twins) quickly created the foundation of their snow fort; the kids from Mrs. Molly’s fifth grade class wouldn’t stand a chance this recess!  The bell rang, signally the start of recess and their fort walls stood at waist high—Junior’s waist high. Junior was the tallest of the Corner Kids Crew, the heaviest as well.

“Incoming,” Miltia said quietly directed to Adam. The red haired boy glanced up from the snowball that he was working on. They were beginning to supply themselves with ammo, just waiting for the December 15th Snowball War to begin. The Corner Kids Crew would be victorious!

“Adam!” a black haired girl called out as she stumbled through the snow. A huge grin on her face as her two other friends stumbled behind her. Running in snow was annoying, it liked to squish around in the weirdest ways and other times you could trip over just when you thought that you stepped on solid ground. And that’s what she did; the black haired girl face planted in the snow.

“Blake!” Adam shouted running out of the fort towards her. His friends laughed loudly behind him. The girl sat up, snow sticking to her nose and cheeks. Adam bit the finger of one of his gloves pulling it off before beginning to brush the snow off her face. “You should be more careful,” he scolded his warm fingers taking off the last off the snow.

Blake frowned, “I didn’t do it on purpose,” she said pouting. Her face red from the snow and embarrassment as Adam’s friends continued laughing. “I wanted to play with you,” she said looking away from the older kids and at Adam.

Adam and Blake grew up neighbours from across the road. Her mother would watch Adam after school until his Aunt would come home and she would see him the next morning where he would walk with her to school. The two of them were close. Her mother would often joke that one day she and Adam would get married—if Blake had it her way. Blake overheard Adam’s Aunt agreeing saying that Adam was “just smitten with her” and that it was always “Blake this, or Blake that.” Blake didn’t believe them, they were silly adults after all there was no way that Adam liked her liked her.

“No babies allowed!” Melanie shouted, a chorus of  _yeah’s_  following. Adam frowned looking back at his friends’ then back to Blake.

“Then Adam will come play with us!” Yang shouted back stopping beside her kneeling friend her younger sister Ruby halting beside her.

Melanie’s cheeks puffed out, “You can’t take Adam we need him to defeat Mrs. Molly’s grade five class!”

Ruby crossed her arms over her puffy red jacket, “then let us play or we’ll drag him off!” she yelled. Cinder and Melanie’s eyes narrowed at the third grader.

“Fine, but don’t start crying if you get hit in the face with a snowball!”

—

Blake threw the blanket off her loft bed and into Adam’s arms. They began to tie it around her bed posts and stuffing it under her mattress. Once that was completed both Adam and she crawled into what they liked to call  _Their Nest_  where they gathered blankets, pillows and her two beanbag chairs to create. They wrapped the last blanket (that wasn’t being used as part of the nest or the walls surrounding the nest) over their bodies and ducked their heads underneath.

She wrapped her arms around his torso and buried her nose in his neck, Adam wrapped his arms around her in return. “Why are your friends so mean to me?” she whispered nuzzling further against his neck.

He blushed remembering some of the things they send once they all dragged themselves into the school after recess.  _“Adam has a girlfriend, Adam has a girlfriend~”_  they had teased, Melanie had poked his red cheeks as Roman called him out for blushing.

“They’re doing it because they know it bothers me.” Blake stared up at him her large golden eyes wavering; she didn’t say anything for a long time. Enough time for him to being to flush darkly and his friends teasing to return to his thoughts. Blake  _wasn’t_  hisgirlfriend. They’ve never even kissed!

That’s what boyfriends and girlfriends did, right? They kissed and held hands and blushed at each other. Right?

Blake chewed on her lip; she was going to do it! No holding back! She’ll just lean in and lay one on him. And she did. Blake dove in, kissing the boy quickly her eyes closed tightly and her heart pounded loudly in her ears. Her eyes fluttered open as she leaned away, her heart in her throat as she gaged his reaction.

Adam sat stunned, blinking owlishly in his shock. His cheeks aflame,  _holy shit_. Yes Adam had just though those words and it was the only thing he was thinking. He couldn’t say anything, didn’t move. He felt so light, his heart beating a mile a minute. He nearly felt like he was going to be sick to his stomach with it beating so quickly.

“Adam, you’re Aunt’s here for you!” Blake’s mother called up the stairs. That snapped him out of his thoughts. He pulled the covers off of the both of them, his hair sticking up in an array of positions as he climbed out of their nest and under the blanket wall. His cheeks still stained red from the kiss. He even jogged from the room and down the stairs, leaving Blake to run after him.

She caught up with him just as he was stepping into his boots. “Adam,” she whined. The boy hit his face in the neck of his sweater. The women shook their heads, chuckling at the children. They had a feeling of what had just transpired. Adam’s Aunt bid the Belladonna’s goodnight, Adam mumbling along with her with his mouth hidden by his jacket cheeks still pink.

—

“Boys are silly, darling. Adam will come around, don’t you worry.” Her mother closed her door with that, finally bidding her daughter goodnight. Her husband raised his brow at her, “she’s just having boy trouble.” The woman slowly began to walk down the stairs, her husband frozen at the top.

“No. Nono,” he hissed his feet thundering down the stairs to catch up to his wife, “Blake’s too young to be having boy troubles. I thought we agreed Blake’s not to have anything to do with boys until she’s twenty five!” His voice panicked, just thinking about his darling daughter in the clutches of some  _boy_. No boy would ever be good enough for his baby girl!

His wife laughed at him patting his arm, “I’ll like to see you try to keep her away from Adam.”

—

Mr. Ozpin and Miss Glynda had settled with the age old classic of A Christmas Carol (a shortened addition), much to the groaning and moaning from The Corner Kids Crew. The fourth graders had piled in Miss Glynda’s class, taking a seat in the open space on the floor. Blake and Yang had sat closer to Adam and his friends, Melanie and Junior had leaned over to whisper “Adam has a girlfriend” in his ear. His face had erupted in a pink flush, it kept getting darker every time Blake would look up at him to smile.

“We need to choose who’s going to be whom, anyone have a character they want to be?” Mr. Ozpin questioned, writing the characters on the board.

Cinder raised her hand high, Miss Glynda pointed to her. “I vote Adam and Blake as Young Scrooge and Belle!” Adam’s face darkened to the colour of his hair as he shot a dark look. All his friends were against him.

“Roman for Scrooge then,” Adam countered. If they were going to be like that, than he’d see to it that his friends have to suffer along with him.

—

The Corner Kids Crew had all gotten speaking roles in the play. Cinder had gotten her way with Adam and Blake playing the young couple. And in return Adam had insured that Roman had gotten the position of Scrooge. Blake’s friend Yang scored the role of the Ghost of Christmas Past, and their class had voted for Junior to play the Ghost of Christmas Present.

Junior had begged and pleaded to not get the part, but everyone had agreed that he would be perfect for the role. He was the jolliest looking one out of the group after all.

The twins became two of the Cratichit children, with one of the boys from Mr. Ozpin’s class staring as Tiny Tim. And Cinder as Mrs. Cratchit, boy had she ever made a fuss out of that one. Much to the amusement of the class.

—

They practiced a lot during that time, going over lines and lines of dialogue. Those that didn’t have any roles were casted as extras and stage crew. They had gathered costumes and planned music. During the gym time they would set up the stage and run through the play, over and over again. They were going to win this year, not those grade sixes and not those kindergartens! They would get that party with the free food and the day off all things school related.

Of course, that is until some  _bright_  student thought it would be more realistic if Blake and Adam actually kissed. Blake agreeing whole heartedly—it was just another reason to kiss Adam again. The boy, on the other hand froze at the suggestion a blush creeping up his neck to his ears and cheeks. When he said he wasn’t going to kiss her, Blake’s eyes watered and the class began to chant “kiss her, kiss her!”

The blush darkened as the chanting grew louder, the teachers trying to silence the children. Adam ground his teeth together, finally having enough of it as he succumbed to peer pressure. He leaned over to the girl beside him and smushed their lips together quickly. Just to stop the crowd.

—

The day of the concert came and went A Christmas Carol hadn’t won—the singing of tiny children in reindeer and elf costumes won the crowd over. Damn kindergarteners and their tiny faces. But the two teachers had agreed that they’ll throw their class a combined Christmas party, were the students could bring treats from home as they watched a movie of their choice.

Yang and Blake had joined The Corner Kids Crew during the movie, Blake holding Adam’s hand tightly in hers. She was finally starting to understand what her Mom said about boys being silly. She knew Adam liked her, Adam knew that she liked him, and everyone knew that they liked each other. But still his face would flush and he would shy away whenever she would go to kiss him, or when someone would tease him about their  _relationship_.

But that was okay, she wasn’t going to go anywhere.


	7. Lady Blake and Sir Adam

“My Lady,” she turned to her most loyal knight. His hair ablaze, his dark armor shining in the setting sun. She smiled sadly at him, her mind lost in terrible thoughts. “Blake,” he whispered her name and touched her elbow in a gentle caress. If it were any other man to touch her like this she would have him killed.

“My brother’s health is returning,” she spoke taking her knight’s hand in hers. “I should be happy for Francis,” she paused clutching his hand, “but I’m not. They’ll marry me off as soon as he’s healthy again. They’ll claim that it’s a good match, but I don’t want to marry a Lord or a Prince.”

Adam’s other hand cupped her cheek, his leather covered thumb caressing her lip, “and what do you want me to do?”

He loved her. Ever since boyhood, Adam had loved his princess. This ebony haired goddess who took a shining to him a street kid wanting to be a knight. With time and help Adam now stood knighted by her side, forever to stand guard. To love her but never touch her. If only her father could see them now.

“Take me away, we can get married!”

She was still just a child. A woman in body, matured and ready to bare children but still a child with her head and heart filled with hope and dreams and love. They had never even kissed, and yet here she was throwing her life, her future, away for her knight. And he wasn’t stopping her.

He surged forward, his lips pressing against hers in desperation. Her arms wrapping around his shoulders as she kissed him back. “If we get caught they’ll kill me, then what Blake?” he whispered against her lips before kissing her again. “Then you’ll have no one to chase off all those suitors. And I will chase them away.”


	8. Turn Around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter started out as a reply and turned into a fic. I thought I should post it on here anyways. Just so that I'm not missing anything :)

I think he would drive her crazy first. Kinda like payback for making him worry about her.

Like at first he would just be seen disappearing around corners and she would just pass it up as a trick in lighting. But it would keep happening. Then next, he would stand there letting her she him. She would look in the direction of red and black, looking at him but turning away the next moment not believing it. When she would look back he’d be gone. She kept seeing him everywhere, but not believing that it was truly him.

After all, how could he sneak into Beacon? 

And how was no one else commenting on his sudden appearance. Was there really that many students that stood out like him? He was like a sore thumb- but then again so were team RWBY and JNPR. 

After awhile her team started noticing him to, Yang teasing her that she had a “secrete admirer” and Blake would open her mouth to deny it. But instead all that came out was a soft sigh and a dark flush on her cheeks. 

Then one day Adam stopped with his act and approached them. “And here comes lover boy,” Yang would tease, Ruby slapping her sister’s arm in Blake’s defense. Blake had turned at that, in the direction that Yang tilted her head towards. She was right, Adam was coming over. His hands deep in his jacket pockets and his head held high. 

His mask was gone. And she could finally see what colour Adam’s eyes really were. They were maroon. That perfect blend between brown and red, and they fit him. He was playing it smart, taking the mask off. It would give away who he really was.

"Blake," he grinned titling his head down to take her in. From the bow that sat on top of her head to the heeled shoes that she wore on her feet. He looked at her eyes next, after taking in her appearance. He snorted, "you haven’t changed all that much. Still have that fire in your eyes."

"How did you get into Beacon, Adam?" she asked. Her team glancing at each other. They knew each other? 

"You know each other?" Weiss voiced. Her eyes narrowing at the man, before widening at the sight of the brown horns protruding from his hairline. Faunus.

"We grew up together," both of them replied not looking away from the other.

_What are you doing here Adam?_

**Come back with me.**

They communicated with each other silently. With the tilt of the head, a blink, and a raised eye brow. Years of partnership had perfected this art. He was happy that they still had it. 


	9. Make them Bleed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greek Coliseum AU

Adam dawned on his helmet, preparing for the battle that awaits him. He was going to kill them; kill every last one of them. He’d rip out their lungs, and throw them to the lions. He’ll laugh at their cries, and their pleading for mercy.

He’d kill them all.

She was only a prisoner. She was a woman. She was never supposed to be thrown in this place.  _Blake,_  he thought catching the sword that one of his fellow gladiators tossed at him. This wasn’t just a normal battle. This was him declaring war. This was him at his worst.

This was him walking into the ring as a broken, angry, vengeful man. These Greeks had killed his darling Blake, and in return he was going to kill all of them.


	10. Soak it in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mermaid Au

The sun hit his face, the water running off it from the crown of his head down his cheeks and neck. The gills on his neck closing as he took a breath of air through his mouth. She lay basking in the sun on her favourite bolder. He swam towards her quietly, his hand running up her smooth tail higher and higher until it touched skin. “A human could see you,” he whispered kissing her shoulder as he joined her to laze around in the sun.

It wasn’t often that shark merpeople could stay in one position for too long, but on the surface lying like this with their tails in the water and the torsos out. This made up for it. Being able to just lay here with Blake, free of his responsibilities in the hunt and politics and just being lazy. “They’ll see you first. Your hair is too red,” she replied smiling at him, her sharp teeth holding his attention.

He wanted to bite her. To taste her blood, licking up every drop of it before it would heal seconds later. He pulled his lips up to show off his own sharpen teeth. He wanted to drag her back under the water and  _mate_ , to tear up her skin and fuck. He wanted to feel her claws sink into his shoulders colouring the water red as she dragged them down before biting his lip open and lapping at the blood.

That’s how their breed mated. Their bodies could handle the pain, the burn of it. They found pleasure with it.

Unlike actual sharks, the shark merpeople did take a mate. Only one. They would stay with them until they die, and even then they would never take another. The jewels around their neck would never shine again. Once the exchanging of these jewels took place no one could break that bond.

These jewels were often fashioned into necklaces, but at times even belts or bracelets. The merpeople would often refer to them as the Mating Garments. They were like wedding rings that the humans wore, but held a piece of the other’s soul encased in them. The soul extract was what caused them to glow.

“Makes hunting fun,” he retorted with a snort, burring his face between her breasts.

Blake squawked, “what do you think you’re doing!?” she hissed smacking his forehead. He shook his head slowly, back and forth. He was enjoying himself. Even if her wrappings were getting in the way of the feeling of flesh touching flesh.

“Boobs,” he replied his hands cupping them and gave them a squeeze.  Blake’s face darkened before pushing him back into the water. Adam went down with a large splash his long tail slapping the water loudly. Blake was a Blacktip Shark-Mermaid, just a Blacktip. Unlike other merpeople who bred outside of their fish class, Blake’s parents did not. So she wasn’t gifted with size, or mismatched stats. Her kind was agile, and could move quickly in irregular movements.

Her family was considered upper class among the merfolk. Their pure Blacktip name only now being ruined with the mating between her and Adam.

The same Adam whom she had just pushed into the water.

A half breed.  Her father turns his nose up at him; at Adam’s long body and different colouring.  _“To think, a Great White had actually bred with a Bull_ ,” her father would say with disgust. While it was true that Adam’s Bull Shark nature would at times frighten her, it was never directed at her. He was playful with her, and when they were completely alone she could see just how childish and silly this merman really was.

And he was a romantic.

He had stolen her away from her father, which in merfolk lives was considered very romantic. Especially if they were sharks. Shark Merfolks were very protective of their families, often keeping to themselves unless it was in their nature to swim together. Where her and Adam had found a she-witch, an old catfish mermaid, to wed them and bind their souls together. And once they had returned, there was nothing that her father could do to stop them.

The gills on Adam’s neck flared once he surfaced again, and Blake couldn’t help but laugh at his betrayed look. “Oh come off it darling, wait until later the sun’s going down soon.”


	11. Sing it Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celebrity Singer AU

They had known each other in high school. He would watch the theater club practice their plays and they would harp him until he would take out that guitar and play a song or two. She had heard rumors that the red head had a  _thing_  for her. She didn’t know what kind of thing these people meant. And she didn’t even know his name, let alone if he had a  _thing_  for her.

All Blake wanted to do was get out of high school, go to university and eventually settle down with a normal life as a writer with a cat or two. One of those Savannah cats, the ones that look like leopards. But that wasn’t the point of this.

All she wanted to do tonight was change into some baggy sweatpants and her oversized university sweater and just write. But Yang, Weiss, and Ruby had all suddenly decided that they’d drag her with them to this concert that they won free tickets too.

She didn’t even catch the stupid band’s name!

But none the less, she put on her nicest jeans and a halter top and did her make up. Or else Yang would’ve complained that she was scaring all the boys away with her frowny face.  And that’s when he stepped on to the stage. His red hair still pushed back, his features still as sharp as ever and a guitar still in his hand.

She knew him. She felt like jumping in place and shouting to her friends, “I know him! We used to go to the same high school!” But Blake didn’t. She didn’t even know his name, this rock star in front of her. His eyes looking out to the crowd as the lead singer took his place beside him. She didn’t even know his name.

“Adam!!” a girl behind her screamed, “I love you Adam!” she yelled.

The red hared man chuckled, leaning into the microphone. “I appreciate that random fan,” he called back. His voice was deeper than what she remembered. She remembered know, this was Adam Taurus.

The boy that had a  _thing_  for her in high school. The one that would pull out his guitar and sing seemingly to her. The same boy that would catch her eye with his bright red hair as he showed up late to English every second day. The same Adam that would tell her that she looked very nice in English, and would tell her that she did a great job in her performance. He was the same Adam that the theater kids had whispered to her about saying that he was planning to take her to prom.

She didn’t go to prom with him.

She couldn’t look him in the face once her friends had told her that. She’s never had a guy liked her before. Was she supposed to act differently? Should she talk to him? Those thoughts made her sick to her stomach. So she avoided him.

He didn’t ask her to prom.

And look at him now, making her feel all these things again. Making her remember his damn name, and how his hair would look when the light would hit it in the afternoons. How his eyes would change from a brown to a maroon. How he argued his points in the debates that they had in English. How his fingers would drum a tune against the table, and his boot covered foot would tap along.

The band had begun their set, the crowd swaying and jumping with the music. But Blake stood still, her head titled up as she took Adam in with wide golden eyes. Adam’s eyes surfed over the crowd, his lips moving as he sang backup vocals as his fingers strummed the guitar. In the sea of moving colours an unmoving black shape drew his attention.

She stood near the front, right in front of his section of the stage. He had to move his lips away from the mike; he felt his heart skip a beat.

_Blake._

There she was.


	12. Letters Given

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's kinda a continuation of the first four chapters/oneshots.

She had no idea just how he had gotten in, or why he was even here in the first place. She had asked him, multiple times in fact. He just didn’t reply. He just kept opening his mouth to either say her name or sigh heavily. And each time she would cut him off with a hiss, “I’m serious Adam, you shouldn’t be here. How did you even get in?”

He brought his hand to face, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I walked in the front gates,” he replied finally. His eyes naked without his mask, “I wanted to see you,” he said finally. Two weeks ago he had gotten a letter from one Blake Belladonna, it was over ten pages in length. Written in her elegant hand writing she had given him a brief summary of everything that had transpired since she had left him on the train. She shared with him her feelings, being surrounded with so many new people and how she couldn’t trust any of them. Not until just recently that is. She told him of her friends; he was already well aware of them through his line of work. She told him more about her past, and how being partners with her helped her realised her true potential.

She had told him that she’d forever have a place for him in her heart and wished him well.

His heart had leapt to his throat then. He had to leave his bedroom and make a few laps around his living room, where he had to mind the broken glass that he had still had yet to clean up. He had dumped his trash out onto the floor, gathering together all the letters that he had left unwritten. Smoothing them all out and deciding once and for all that he would contact her.

And here he was standing in front of her, a folder tucked in the inside of his jacket just waiting for him to give her them.

“Blake!” a girl in a large red cape came running out of their dorm building, skidding to a stop beside her team mate. Ruby Rose, the girl that Roman mentioned. She looked up at Adam, “who’s this?”

“Adam,” she replied pointing to the man, “this is Ruby she my—”

Adam turned his head away from the two girls, “I’m aware of who your teammates are,” he sighed running a hand through his hair.  _Shit_ , this wasn’t going how he wanted. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting, but a third party was certainly not it. But fuck it all, he was going to do this. He was going to hand her that envelope, tell her his feelings and get the fuck out of dodge before anyone else showed up.

He opened his mouth to try again. “Who’s he?” Yang Xiao Long appeared her golden hair standing out anywhere. He remembered Junior mentioning this one; she had a fiery and explosive temper. But then again, so did he.

“His name is Adam,” Ruby piped up happily her arms crossed over her chest.

“He’s a Faunus,” Weiss Schnee supplied joining her teammates. She still disliked them, Blake was her only exception. They were teammates; they couldn’t afford to have something so trivial tear them apart. And even more than that they were friends. Adam scowled down at the white haired girl, his distaste for her plain on his face.

This was really not going how he pictured, and hoped it would go. He huffed taking the package out of his jacket and shoving it into Blake’s arms. “Just read them, I’ll talk to you later.” He then turned tail, his shoulders hunched. It wasn’t meant to be like that. He wanted to explain it first, the frame of mind he was in when he wrote all of those. Hundreds of pages, with few words on each one. He fished out his mask from his pocket and returned it to his face to cover his disappointment.

“Adam!” Blake called. Adam paused to allow her to continue, “take care of yourself.”

—

_Dear Blake,_

_Why now? Why did you leave now and not before? Wh—_

_—_

_Dear Blake,_

_Fuck this. Fuck you—shit that wasn’t what I wanted to say. Shit._

_—_

_Blake,_

_I hope this was everything you wanted._

_—_

_I miss you. I hate that I miss you. But I do._

_—_

_Dear Kitten,_

_I don’t even know what to write most of the time._

_—_

_Dear Blake,_

_I’m sorry that I’ll never be that man that you hoped I’d be._

_—_

_Blake,_

_I hate it. I hate that stupid bow of yours._

_—_

Blake had read them all, all two hundred and sixty seven of them. She felt her eyes prick as she picked up the last letter, this one longer. Much longer compared to the rest.

_Hey Blake,_

_I never know where to begin with these. I go from one stupid emotion to the other and my hand can never keep up with it. Some days I’m mad at you, while other days it’s hard to even think about you. Then there’s those days that I turn to say something to you and remember that you won’t be there. I’m glad that you’re finding happiness at Beacon, and I’m sorry I could never provide that for you._

_You’d hate me for what I’ve become since you left. I won’t lie to you, not now. You gave me hope in a better life, made me want to be better. Even if it was just for you. I’m not a good person Blake, but you make me want to try. Just so you could smile at me one more time._

_It’s stupid how much I love you. So fucking stupid in how much control you have over me and you’re not even here. You probably don’t even care about that. Living beneath that bow and striving to become a huntress while the rest of us prepare for war. Ever since I got you that damn thing I’ve wanted to do nothing else but burn it._

_This wasn’t how I wanted this thing to go. I wanted to just get it over with. Tell you the words I never could and be done with it. So here it is again; I love you. I love you. I love you._

_-Adam_


	13. Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fun mixture of a college/University Au and the dreaded heat.

She should’ve known that it would be coming sometime soon. She shouldn’t have been locked in her tiny apartment just off campus were a cold bath would be readily available and she’d be away from people. Her hint should’ve been the increase in bleeding that she experience during her last two periods. And it should’ve surely been the flush that her cheeks took when she got dressed that morning.

She should’ve turned around and went back home when she started to feel the heat coming from her skin. And should’ve  _ran home_  at a male cat Faunus turning towards her eyebrow raised and mouth parted. Like he tasted the air around her, his nose scrunching up as he had took in the sent.

But Blake didn’t. She had a class that she couldn’t miss today, and she wasn’t about to turn tail and run all the way home when she was already nearly there. It wasn’t like these things didn’t happen from time to time—Blake certainly smelt a fair bit of other Faunus about to go into heat or just dealing with the after effects of one.

Her friends found her moments after stepping in the Quad, something about getting a text Pyrrha saying that she looked a little flushed. “Do you need us to take you home?” Ruby inquired.

“Do you want me to tell the professor that you need to miss the test? I will do it, you’ll have to make it up though,” Weiss added over Ruby as she picked at her nails to seem indifferent. But she was concerned with Blake’s health.

Yang raised a well groomed eyebrow, “should I get Adam?”

Blake lunged at her blonde friend, “No!” she cried out grabbing Yang’s hand tightly. “I just need to go to this one class then I’ll go home. Just please don’t call Adam,” she pleaded. Back when Blake and the rest were first year students, they had shared the same dorm floor. Weiss, Yang, Ruby and Blake had met then and became close friends throughout that year. Although there were many trials in that first year; like the whole roommate thing between Weiss and Ruby—that was a train wreck. Or how Blake’s childhood friend (and now boyfriend) was their RA.

Adam had put the fear of God into them during Frosh Week, and it served as a constant reminder in the back of everyone’s mind as they went about their days. Until the night were they walked into the lounge to a shirtless drunk Adam and friends dancing drunkenly to Lady Gaga and Ke$ha. Nora and Blake had pulled out their phones to document this rare occurrence. Both girls still had these pictures on their phones, Nora had some uploaded to Facebook.

Blake had kept those pictures to herself though. Unlike Nora who took pictures of all the upper class men, and liked to pull them out when she would introduce herself. No, Blake would open the pictures and would trace the lines of his muscles, the lines of his tattoos and stare back at him as he stared back at her in 9/10 of the photos. A face splitting grin on his lips.

“Okay, I won’t call him.” Yang placed her hand against her friend’s forehead, she was growing warmer. “After class you’re going right home,” the blonde’s eyes narrowed as she spoke. Blake’s face looked flush as she nodded weakly, all her strength was being used in keeping her upright.

-

Blake shouldn’t have even gone to class. She should’ve done what Adam would have done and just yelled, “Fuck it!” and go right back to sleep. She bombed it. Royally. The whole time she kept thinking about  _Adam_ , his name echoing in her head. With him in her head her body temperature grew warmer and warmer. She had stripped out of her light jacket, then her sweater, and then the vest that she wore. She had even unbuttoned the first three buttons of her shirt.

She was lucky to even write a sentence on her paper before having to hand it in.

The once trivial sounds—heartbeats of her classmates around her, tapping of feet, a clicking of a pen. Those sounds were like alarms going off in her Heat stricken mind, and they bounced around in it. Only growing louder and louder as the Heat grew.

Weiss had helped gather up all her clothing all the while pushing her towards the door. Before Blake decided to strip out of her shirt next. Yang and Ruby rushed to her side to steer her through the crowd and out into the fresh air. Other Faunus taking in the very scent that she was omitting—Blake was purposely not thinking about how she must smell like to them.

Ruby touched her arm her fingers wrapping around her upper arm, “Let’s get you ho—”

“Blake!” A figure in red and black called out. Blake blinked the haze from her eyes, and the first thing she saw was Adam’s eyes. His typical maroon eyes were dark, a deep brown now. His nostrils flared and forehead creased. “I’m taking you home right now,” he said through clenched teeth. He shrugged off his jacket and forced her wear it.

“I—I’ll just hang onto these,” Ruby mumbled clutching Blake’s clothes against her chest. The three girls watched as Adam guided her away. Blake nose buried in the collar of Adam’s jacket.

-

“Now, fuck me right now Adam,” she patted against his lips as soon as they closed the door. The man lifted her by her waist, her legs wrapping around him as he carried her into his bedroom. The greatest part about having a one bedroom apartment was the fact that he didn’t have a roommate—that and that he didn’t have to close the door behind him. Blake bounced on the bed and immediately began to paw off the jacket, throwing the heavy garment to the floor loudly before tearing her shirt from her chest.

“Jesus  _fucking_  Christ,” Adam blinked. He watched her struggle with her belt. He shook his head before pulling his red shirt over his head and dropping it to the ground; he unbuckled his belt and pulled it from the loops before adding that to his pile. Blake was still fumbling with that belt of hers. He chuckled lightly, kneeling on the ground between her legs. “Here let me,” his voice ran smooth as his hands slid up her thighs, thumbs pressing on the soft skin.

Blake threw her head back purring loudly at the touch, and growling in annoyance when his hands left her.  He chuckled leaning into her crotch, kissing her clothed cunt. He could feel the moisture through her jeans. He could taste her in the air and in his mouth, without actually tasting her. His own body reacting to her heat, a shutter running up his spine as he grew hotter. He kissed her, his fingers unbuttoning her jeans and pulling both her pants and underwear down. 

She raised her hips, “Adam,” she panted sweat making her body glisten. He left around her ankles, his hands pushing her legs further apart. They’ve done this before; oral was safe. Familiar. The feeling of his breath against her, making her legs quiver and breath catch as she felt his tongue enter her. She sighed, her back arching off the bed as he lapped at her cunt. “Adam,” she breathed her arms too weak to grip his hair.

He pulled away with a lick of his lips to wink up at her, “move up,” his voice pinched with lust. He whipped his face on the comforter as she moved up. He never took his eyes off her, and in return she did the same. He stood, hands pulling his black pants down enough for him to kick them off no longer caring about keeping the mess to a minimum. He plans on fucking her on, and against any and all surfaces he could.

And he won’t regret it when the Heat dies down either.

He kneeled by her feet, his fingers trailing up her leg. The hair on her legs only pricking his fingers, she must have shaved sometime within the last three days, and up to her waist where he gripped his hipbones and ground his clothed cock against her. She mewled, head hitting the pillows as she displayed her neck to him.

“More,” she purred sweaty hands gripping the back of his neck and into his hair, pulling and nails scrapping against his scalp. He licked up her neck, teeth pressing down on her flesh before his lips covered them and he sucked. Tongue running over the skin as he hollowed his cheeks. “Ah,” she panted hand gripping and pulling his hair enough for him to let a grunt out around her skin. His mouth migrated upwards under her jaw, kissing it once, twice, thrice.

He removed himself from her, flopping his body down on the bed to reach his nightstand were he kept all his  _supplies_. They wouldn’t need lube; her Heat already in full effect. But condoms, those they would need.  “Adam, now!” she groaned body arching as she panted loudly. He slammed the box down on the bed, before leaning back over her with a wicked grin.

“I’m getting to that,” he drawled kissing her collar bone. Adam pushed his boxers down, his dick bouncing upwards against his stomach. “Get me one,” he nodded towards box, moving to fully remove his last article of clothing. Blake threw a condom at him and threw the box off the bed and across the room, clearly impatient. He couldn’t help but chuckle at her as he rolled the condom down his dick.

Blake gripped his neck with her claw like fingers and pulled him down flush against her. “Stop fucking around,” she hissed biting his bottom lip. He loved it when she got like this, so horny that she would curse and bite and fight. He found it hot. So incredibly hot that he did what he was told and hooked her legs around his waist and taking his cock in hand to ease his way inside her.

She released his lip with a gasp, her fingers weaving their way through his hair at the nape of neck and pulling. Her body was loose and relaxed. He felt no resistance as he moved against her, hips rolling and neck bowing kiss her collar bone. His hand moved from her hip to the mattress beside her head, his other arm hooking under back and under the bra she still wore.

It was pink. Bright pink. How did he not notice this before, and when on earth did she get it?

He mouthed at the skin around the pink cloth, his thrusts stilling to unstrap it. Blake immediately threw it from her person and gripped his face with both hands. “Move,” she said hoarsely. And he did. He snapped his hips forward and pulled back with vigor. Blake’s back arching and nails clawed at his shoulders and back, making the skin rise in angry red welts. His head fell forward and his arm quaked in the effort to hold himself up as he continued to thrust in and out of her.

He dropped to his elbow; the movement made him burry his face in her hair. She moaned and panted in his ear and he rolled his hips  _just right_ , and she yelled. Her legs tightened around him and her nails dug a little deeper, drawing blood.  The hand holding her back moved down her back, along the sweat drenched skin to her waist and further downwards to her clit. His thumb rubbing the nub, and her legs shook. Chest heaved and voice growing louder until she came with a broken sob. Adam grunted watching the bliss on her face before closing his own eyes to ride out his own orgasm with a sharp grunt.

He pulled out to remove the condom, tying it and dropping it in the garbage on the other side of his nightstand. He flopped back on the bed in an uncharacteristically ungraceful way and wiped the sweat from his brow on one of the pillows. Blake’s eyes were still closed as she fought off sleep; they had finally had sex. Well, penetrative sex. She couldn’t fight the grin that broke out over her face, she felt like laughing. So she did.

“Better than the last few Heats that you’ve been through?” Adam inquired, already knowing the answer. Soldiering through a Heat by yourself was Hell. He was a guy, he’s experienced it before. And of course he had buddies who’re women Faunus that have toughed through many. Unlike women who had a set Heat cycle, men’s ‘Heat’ would trigger when they were around a woman either going into Heat or in Heat for too long. A good hour or two of being in the same place at them would do it.

Blake laughed, rolling over to press their lips together. “Duh,” she breathed rubbing their noses together.


	14. Cough it Up, Bleed it Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> High School AU set in the 90's (well 2000 to be exact)

He shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around his date’s shoulders. She smiled up at him, “thanks,” she whispered as they walked back to his bike. The girl had wanted to go for a walk, and he felt the need to a cigarette so he had agreed. He didn’t have a clue how he ended up going on a date with this girl, he didn’t even catch her name.

He honestly thought that he was going on a date with Blake.

When he showed up at her house; freshly shaven, showered, and _ready_. Blake had smiled at him and pushed a friend of hers into his arms and said, “Have fun you two!”

She had then closed the door.

He felt his heart jump to his throat, and his eyes prick. _Fuck. **FUCK!**_ He wanted to hurt something, to hurt _someone_. But that could wait until later, when he would wrap the black, white and red bandana around his throat. Then he could make them hurt as much as he was.

Blake was never like this before. He actually had a chance before she had made friends with the Schnee girl, Yang and Ruby. Before she had rid herself of the leather and monochromatic clothing. Back when she was still his Kitten, sitting on the back of his bike and wrapping her arms around his waist. Her long black hair blowing in the wind.

But he had taken this girl out, treated her right and had _tried_ to smile for her. He couldn’t though, but he tried. “I’m sorry,” he said to the girl as he walked her to her door, his jacket now back in its place. The girl had shaken her head and smiled saying that it was fine. It wasn’t, not for him.

The taste of rejection had never left him the whole evening, along with that hallow feeling in his gut. He pulled up to his driveway, shutting off the bike and stomped into his house slamming the door behind him. “Adam, how was your date!?” His Aunt shouted from the basement. He could hear her walking up the stairs, and he in return ran up the stairs to the top floor. His Doc Martins slamming against the wood loudly as he took to the stairs two at a time.

“It fucking sucked,” he called back to her over the railing not stopping until he got to his room. White walls covered in band and horror movie posters, pictures of a better time on his nightstand and dresser, a pile of clothes piled in the corner and his covers on his bed at the foot of the mattress. He grabbed the bandana from its place beside a picture frame. He stopped and set his jaw. The picture frame fell forward he had wanted to take it into hand and throw it from his window, but thought better of it.

He tied it loosely around his neck and fixed the collar of his jacket. He touched his pocket to check for keys; they were still there. He turned, making just as much noise leaving as he did coming. His Aunt stood in front of the door, arms crossed. “I thought you went out on a date with _the love of your life_ Blake,” her brow rose in question, she noticed the colour around his neck. She knew what it meant, knew where he was going.  

“She set me up with some girl instead,” he replied pocketing his hands in his jacket and hunched his shoulders. The woman was a good foot smaller than her, with wide hips and a slim torso. This was the woman that raised him after his parents had died in a crash when he was five. He could hardly remember his parents, if not for the pictures he may have completely forgotten what they had looked like.

Her mouth opened, “oh honey,” she said sadly reaching out to lay a comforting hand on his arm. Adam moved away before she could, his eyes staring at the door behind her. She sighed heavily knowing that he’d leave wither it be through a door or window he would be leaving. “Give me your colours,” she held her hand out.

“What?” he started a hand reaching up to his bandana in defense.

“You’re not leaving this house until I have that horrid colour band in my hands. You’re walking out in the middle of a gang war wearing one of the gang’s colours. I will not have you leave me too, not after my br—after your father. I can’t lose you too.”

He ground his teeth together, handing the bandana over once he untied it. He loved his Aunt and the last thing he would want to do is add any more grey hairs for the woman to dye when he doesn’t need to. She worried enough about him when he wasn’t in one of his moods. Her smile seemed force as she patted his cheek and kissed the other, “please just come home tonight.”

He wrapped an arm around the woman’s shoulder and kissed her hair. “I will Mum,” he whispered back before stepping around her and out the door. Closing the door quietly behind him.

\--

You don’t pull out a knife in a fist fight. You don’t pull out a gun in a knife fight. You don’t go after a brother without a colour. And you never hurt one of the girls.

Those were the rules.

They were there for a reason.

Adam was colourless, he had no weapon. Not his pocket knife and surely not a gun. He didn’t even have a _fucking_ _bat_. He was fucked. Not drunk fucked, although he had been drinking, but fucked in the sense that someone had a gun trained on him and he hand nothing but his leather jacket and a shitty mood. The two other members in his gang took a step back and the boy with the gun unclipped the safety.

“Fuck,” Adam whispered under his breath hand clenching and unclenching at his side. If he knew he had a hit on his head he wouldn’t have come here. Wouldn’t have gone anywhere without a switchblade. A shot rang through the air and Sun dropped to the ground, clutching his leg in pain. They weren’t even in colour.

“Fuck,” he hissed noticing the gun that Junior was pulling from the back of his pants. “Fuck,” he hissed again as he dove to the ground when the shooter hand pointed the gun away from Junior after firing a second shot. “Fuck,” Adam cursed as he took Junior’s gun and leaned against a car for cover. He swore again as he took off the safety. He hissed out another curse as he fired, hitting the boy in the chest.

He choked up blood. Adam fell to his knees as the blood spilt out his lips.

When did he get shot?

He tipped backwards onto the asphalt, his mind trying to wrap itself around how he had gotten shot, and when. He couldn’t breathe, the blood was pooling in his lungs too quickly for him to cough it back up.

He was going to ruin his jacket. It was a gift from Blake, back when she would still ride bitch with him. Back when she still wore leather and corsets. Back when she was still his Kitten. When he would tuck her hair behind her ear and smile sweetly at him. Back when she would smile back at him.

He was choking.

The sky was over cast, but there wasn’t that smell of rain in the air. He should’ve gone to Blake’s. Should’ve told her; should’ve finally came clean about the feelings that he’s been harbouring for her.

He was bleeding.

Maybe his Aunt would give Blake all his jackets. That made him tear up. Thinking of his Aunt who would have no one. His Aunt who told him to come home tonight.

He was dying.  

He wasn’t coming home tonight. Or any other night.

\--

 

Adam Taurus

3/21/1982—4/9/2000


	15. Mask

He never used to wear the mask. He hated the feeling of constriction, and it limited his vision. He had always just tucked it into his inner jacket pocket and would put it on only when he superiors would summon him. He hated the plain grey metal slate, hated how ugly it was and of course the reasons he mentioned before.

But then his accident happened.

He had turned to smile over his shoulder at his partner—saying something clever, there was always something eloquently clever on his tongue. The large smile etched on Blake’s lips turned sour. Fear lit up her eyes like he’s never seen before.

And never since.

“Adam!” she shouted and he turn from her. He felt pain, a blinding pain. He had dropped to the ground, clutching his face in agony. He felt like crying out in anguish—instead only a sound groaning escaping. Blake had lunged at the attacker, killing them with a yell.

When the wound healed, the burns never left. The underground doctor that his boss had found was astonished that they were able to save his sight.

 His eyes.

Adam had panicked at that, he had nearly lost his eyes.

**_His eyes._ **

And even then, a chunk of his face still remained that was burned and soar.

Hurt.

Blake had never seen him  _fully healed_.

She had dragged him back; face covered in blood, body twitching in pain, breath laboured and slow. She had kept having stop to check his heart rate when his body would stop twitching. She had never been so afraid for him than that moment. She waited and waited. Not knowing the status of his health other than, “he’s alive.”

Months had passed, she had stopped asking. A gut feeling telling her that he was fine. That there wasn’t anything to worry about. And she was right, in sense.

He had shown up on her door, his mask painted with red—he was promoted—and a smirk on his lips. “Missed me?” he had asked leaning against the door frame with crossed arms. She had hugged him, wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and refused to let go. Not after a minute... or two… or ten, or twenty. She kept shaking, she refused to cry. He was here, there was no blood. He was smiling.

He was  _fine_.

…

_Right?_


	16. Reply

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of Letters Given

He hadn’t spoken to her since the day that he snuck into Beacon. He hadn’t even seen her. It could be safe to say that he was avoiding all things Blake. From the desk that he had most often found himself sitting at when he wrote to her. Or, well threw paper balls from. Even the new lamp that he got after breaking the last one served as a painful reminder. So he refused to turn it on, even when it was the closest one to him some nights.

He was not being childish.

Adam grabbed the envelops from his mailbox and tucked them into the inside of his jacket pocket as he turned to take the stairs up to his floor. One flight turned to three, his shoes slamming against the metal stairs tiredly and he opened the door leading to the fifth floor. Today was long, it was boring and it over all just left him with a feeling of frustration. He dug the keys from his pocket, turning it with a flick of his wrist and shouldering his way through the door. The stupid thing liked to stick at the worst of times.

He tossed the papers from his pocket on the kitchen table followed by his keys and jacket. He kicked his boots across the foot, both landing just shy of the door but still on the mat. He fell face first into the couch, laying his weapon on the floor beside him.

In his haste to reach the couch Adam hadn’t noticed a letter hidden amongst the bills. He hadn’t seen the beautiful scripture that read his name.

—

“So who is he?” Yang teased from her spot on Weiss’s bed. “He looks older,” she smiled leaning forward. Blake’s cheeks flushed from her seat on the floor in front of the book self. The folder filled with Adam’s letters held tightly in her arms. “Is he a… well,” she glanced at Weiss and the Schnee heiress stared back the golden haired girl coldly, “is he a member of the White Fang?”

That was a question that Blake often asked herself as well. Was Adam still in the White Fang even with a human commanding them? If he was it must sit wrong on him, it going everything that he had spoken of with her. And he wasn’t wearing his mask when he had come to her that day. And if he wasn’t in the White Fang anymore, then what was he doing now?

“I… don’t know.” She looked down at the folder in her arms, not once had he mentioned anything about what he was up to. “The White Fang isn’t exactly following the path that he might feel comfortable with,” she sighed heavily and slowly looked up to her friends’ curious faces.

“As in attacking people and stealing stuff?” Ruby supplied, the pitch of her voice rising at the end.

Blake shook her head, “working with humans,” her voice was grave. She wasn’t proud of the things that she’s done in the name of the White Fang, and she saddened by the things that Adam has done for them as well. He may one day feel the weight of the things that he’s done.

Weiss huffed, “so he’s a beast then,” she couldn’t help but sneer. While she and Blake had put the whole Faunus ‘coming out’ ordeal behind them, the Shnee heiress wouldn’t (or couldn’t) warm up to the idea of other Faunus. It reminded Blake of Adam in that regards, although Weiss wasn’t at an extreme point like her old partner was.

Blake wanted to argue that he wasn’t a beast, or a monster that everyone claimed him to be. That he was just… extreme. Or that the world had made him that way. But it didn’t exactly sit right with Blake. Adam had that monster inside him, and at times it made her fear him. But Adam also had kindness within him. He had shown her more of that side in each crumbled up letter that he had written. “This fighting has made monsters on both sides,” she finally replied forcing it out.

She felt horrible for saying it, although it was true. Adam had that side in him; that part of him that made him bare his teeth and snap at others. That part of him that would take lives without even blinking. She had seen that beast in him emerge far too often for her to lie about.

“It’s the reason why I left,” Blake continued her mind running a mile a minute. “We weren’t about peace anymore, we were striving for war. I didn’t want anything to do with that… I didn’t want to watch him have to kill people for the cause,” she shook her head. She felt like an idiot. Leaving him that day wouldn’t have changed the fact that the White Fang were moving towards war and that Adam would have to kill people if he was still with them. The only thing that she’s done is run away and left his back open.

Ruby rolled off her bed and plopped down beside the black haired girl. She took Blake’s hand in hers and said, “We don’t blame you for wanting to leave and you shouldn’t blame yourself either.” Blake sniffled rubbing at her eyes with her arm. Both Yang and Weiss joined their teammates on the floor, Yang wrapped her arm around Blake’s shoulder and Weiss placed both of her hands on the Faunus’ knees.

—

Adam woke up hours later feeling worse for wear. His forehead pounded, his eyes burned and his limbs felt heavy. He groaned as he sat up, he didn’t even notice falling asleep. He moved his weapon to the coffee table before standing. His back and knees cracking and popping as he moved. He felt like he had gotten run over by a train. He walked to the kitchen, turning on his coffee maker before picking his jacket off the table.

He began to tidy up; jacket on a hanger and placed in the closest, keys moved to a bowl by the door. He began to sort through the bills as he leaned against the counter waiting for the coffee to finish. His mask sitting on the counter, the pressure that he felt against his forehead lessening slightly now that it was off. He hated wearing it lately. Made him feel like it was his collar and cage all in one.

_Adam_

The curve of the A drew his attention. He couldn’t open it fast enough. He pulled the letter out, discarding the bills and the envelop that it had arrived in. He held the paper almost daintily, grasping it with only the tip of his forefinger and thumb.

_Adam,_

_Sometimes I think that I’m a coward. Most times I think about how my actions in leaving you and leaving the White Fang would be what get you killed. It’s silly to think that, but I can’t help it. I can’t help but fear the possibility that I’d never get to see you again and to never really apologize for leaving that day. Even if I felt, and still feel that I’ve done the right thing._

_I can’t stand seeing that side of you that could kill people go easily. Every time I think about you lately that’s all that I could picture. You saying, “What about them?” with that cold tone of yours. I keep seeing you surrounded in red and I don’t want to. I want to remember the Adam that’s still buried within you, the one that I see in that journal that you told me to keep safe. I want to remember you as the teenager that threw a jacket over my head to cover me from the rain. I want to remember the Adam that taught me how to fight, and how to cook, and how to survive._

_I want to remember the man, not the beast. I love that Adam, not the one created from bloodshed. I’m afraid of that part of you, Adam. How you don’t care about people when you’re like that. It makes me afraid of what you could do to me when you’re like that._

_Would you turn on me too if I got in your way?_

_I don’t want to be afraid of you. But I am, and I can’t help it. I’m afraid of the monster that you’re becoming and I don’t even know if you notice it yourself._

_-Blake_

He slammed the paper down against the counter. His throat tightening, he swallowed dryly. He drove her away. He balled his fists, and exhaled through his clenched teeth. He drove her away. His head pounded, he reached up to press a hand against his temple. It wasn’t working, the pain behind his eyelids only growing. His body sank to the ground, his back pressed against the cabinets with his hands pressed against his temples.  

He drove her away.

She feared him. She loved him. But only a part of him. Was that really love at all? Could you claim to love someone but only a small part of them… was that well and truly love then? These thoughts only made his eyes prick with wetness, his head feeling as though someone was stepping on it. Slowly adding more and more pressure the more he thought.

He wanted to dive to the nearest paper and pen in his apartment and begin to write. A part of him wanted to beg her not fear him. That he wasn’t a monster that everyone claimed him to be. And that he was a man not an animal.

But another part of him, the part of him that was grounded by the head splitting ache coming from his skull felt like an animal. The part of him that would grimace when people looked at him with that look, the one that made he feel like he was caged, beaten and hostile. The mask that he wore that he had once been so proud of feeling like a collar and a leash. Choking him with each passing day.

The part, the beast… the monster half of him kept him seated on the floor. Kept his hands buried in his hair, and had kept his eyes from watering further. That part had later made him pick himself off the floor, crumble up the letter and burning it into the sink. The part that Blake claimed was the beast had always been with him; he was a beast. A monster.

The world was finally just noticing just how cruel he could be.


	17. Still them

They had fought about the topic of her attending Beacon for a while. He didn’t want her to go off and attend a school so over run by humans. During his time with the White Fang he had come across Huntresses and Hunters that have been trained from Beacon, they were under command of people who stood against them—against the Faunus.

Why doesn’t Blake understand that?

She kept talking of peace, and how she didn’t stand for what the White Fang were doing and yet she wasn’t opening her eyes to what the school that she wanted to attend was doing. He couldn’t understand how she would be so blinded to this.

They were training would-be killers.

If she wanted out, then Adam would’ve taken her out of the city... the country. Anything. He would’ve and still would do anything that girl would ask. They both would have left. Anywhere else but Beacon. But that’s where her heart took her, and in the end there was nothing that Adam could do but watch her disappear around the bend.

Adam had left the mask at the apartment; he didn’t want people to draw attention to him as he snuck into the dorms on Beacon. The same apartment that Blake and he used to share. The same place that she had shown up on the doorstep of with two bags thrown over shoulders, one filled with clothes and the other filled with books and whatnots. She had first commandeered the spare room, sleeping on the couch in there but as more time had passed and his things had stopped being his and hers stopped just being hers she had started crawling into his bed.

And after that the kisses and touches had begun. From the cuddling on the sofa, joint showers and waking to his leg pressed in between her thighs. He would find her wearing his clothes around the house. She would sit on the counter while he cooked dinner and lunch, if they were lucky. Blake would be the one that took care of breakfast—Adam hated eating in the morning, he still did, but she would stand there with those eyebrows lifted to her hairline and her lips pursed until he finally ate a small portion drowning it in coffee.

It was the same apartment that they shared their first kiss and she had had sex for the first time in. The same furniture and the same picture frames of the two of them at that one festival that _she just had to get a picture of_. He didn’t change a thing, in case she ever decided to return—so that when she did everything would be waiting for her to fill with her things again. The clothes and book that she had taken with her… and of course, the most important thing being her.

He expected more from this school and their security. No one had tried to stop him when he walked onto the campus, and into the dorm building. Not when he had stopped a brown haired rabbit Faunus and asked her where Blake’s room was. Not even when she had provided him with verbal directions, and he thanked her.

And here he was, shoulder leaning against the wall beside the door and knuckles wrapping loudly against the door. A sound of confusion, followed by a harsh whisper of “get the door Ruby!” sounded from the other side. The door opened slowly, the petite girl tilted her head up and up.  She wasn’t expecting someone so tall.

“Um… hi” she voiced tilting her head to the side in question. “Are you lost?” she added, her voice childlike and innocent. Her eyes large and filled with fonder and light. He didn’t like it. Someone at Beacon shouldn’t be filled with such innocence.

“Is Blake here?” he choked out her name, having to clear his throat halfway through. His stomach rolled and his palms felt sweaty. He suddenly felt very nervous; he hadn’t seen her for months. What if she didn’t want to see him?

The girl looked over her shoulder, the other three girls making gesturing to open the door—to let them see who was at the door. Ruby pushed the door fully open, and Blake gasped. “Adam,” she stood from the bed and moved to the middle of the room.

Adam’s lips twitched, his heart beating a mile a minute. “Hey Kitten,” he smiled gently running a hand through his hair minding the dark brown horns. She pressed her hands against her gut as it flip flopped. He had come to visit her. He had actually stepped onto the Beacon campus to come visit her. She didn’t expect to see him again, after… after she left… after that fight. After all the arguments that they had had about her attending Beacon.

She had thought that they were over.

Adam shrugged his shoulders, whatever force that had kept her standing in the middle of the room broke and she ran to him. Her arms wrapping tightly around his neck as he bent to lift her from the floor by her waist. They moved quickly; it was burned into their muscles after many years of this. Her legs wrapping around his waist, and his arms encircled hers. “I thought you wouldn’t want to see me again,” she whispered, the sound muffled against his jacket.

One hand moved brushing through her hair getting tangled in the strands at the base of her skull and neck. “That’s a bunch of horse shit,” he responded kissing her head.

“Sooooo,” Ruby followed with a force cough. “Blake who’s this?” she beamed at the two.

“He’s—”

“I’m her boyfriend,” Adam replied. It set Blake’s stomach at ease finally knowing that they were still _they_. Not Blake and Adam, but Blake _and_ Adam. The months of uncertainty and worry seemed silly now. Team RWBY (minus Blake) threw looks at each other a silent but heavy **what** in the air.

 


	18. Sir Lamb Chop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in the same Universe as the University AU... just a little later.

Their kid was the cutest kid in the world. And he wasn’t just saying that because it was his and Blake’s offspring. He had the little nubs growing from his head, brown just like his Dad. Blake’s friends would coo at him all the time, calling him cute and handsome. Blake would proudly refer to them  _her boys_ , and each time she said it Adam couldn’t keep the grin off his face.

Blake had become pregnant during her last year of University, both thinking that it was from one of her Heats—when both of them were so blinded by the lust and the Heat. It was a surprise when she missed her period. Both of them had panicked, but Blake had calmed saying that stuff like this happen every once in a while for her. A nagging feeling in the back of their minds never left, it was the subconscious feeling of just _knowing_.

Looking back on it now, both agreed that they just  _knew_ _._

That’s when her stomach started to feel queasy. It was always during that one morning class of hers. She would grab a bagel that day and assembled her things on the table in front of her. When the professor would walk in her stomach would drop and felt the urge to hurl. She didn’t. And the feeling would pass after anywhere from ten to thirty minutes.

Until one weekend.

She had missed another period, and she had taken the test. The time between peeing on the sick and waiting for the test was always the hardest—at least that’s what Blake had heard. And she could now say that those people were right. Her stomach was a wreck, flipping and flopping violently until the point that she felt bile creep up her throat and she heaved into the bathtub.

The test turned out to be positive.

And it was safe to say Blake had freaked out. Thoughts of, “I’m not ready for this yet” and “I’m going to kill him” ran through her head. She had called her mother, crying over the phone as she told her what had happened. Her mother had been her saving grace that day, calming her down and  _keeping_  her calm.

She had stayed on the phone with her Mother until Adam had come home from work two and a bit hours later, he had greeted her with a kiss to the temple.

Throwing his shirt off and into their room as he went by towards the bathroom to wash the sweat and grossness off him that he had collected from work. Blake had forgotten all about leaving the test on the counter until Adam came tumbling out of the bathroom pants unbuttoned and wide eyed. Blake hung up the phone then, her cheeks growing red. “Surprise?” she said shyly.

And that was the story of how they found out Blake was pregnant.

Marcus Taurus was born November 5th. And he looked just like his father. Adam’s Aunt had given her Adam’s baby pictures and the two (three if Blake’s mother was there) women would coo at how adorable Adam was and how much Marc looked like him. Adam would turn to his son turning those times, picking up the child and saying, “don’t listen to them son, you’re cool. I’m cool. There’s nothing cute about us.”

Marc was older now; sitting up and looking around at everything with wide maroon eyes. Blake came home to her boys lazing around on the floor watching Beauty and The Beast on the television. Blake and Adam both greatly enjoyed that movie; their friends like to say it was because Blake and Adam were the Beauty and the Beast in that movie.

Adam would chuckle, “Now that’s a little harsh, Blake is way too beautiful to be the beast.”

Marc was playing near Adam’s head, his little hand grabbing at his father’s horn and tugging gently on his brown and red hair. “Hey there darling,” Blake cooed kneeling behind her son. Marc cooed throwing his arms up for her to pick him up. “Look at what Mama got you today,” she smiled holding out a stuffed lamb.

Marc cooed, grabbing the toy lamb and hugging it to his chest.


	19. Not so Distant Phone Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was craving some Pokemon 'Verse stuff, but didn't know exactly what Pokemon to use for everyone just yet. In my head Adam seems to have a lot of Pokemon that happen to be Dragon Types...

Blake and Adam had grown up being neighbours. Her Mother and his Aunt became the best of friends, and with that their friendship only grew stronger. They would play in the park together and spent the whole time talking about what they were planning on becoming. The topic of what Pokémon they would choose was very popular between them, like every child their age.

There was one slight hiccup though.

Adam was two years older than Blake; actually he was a year and eight months older than her. He had already begun his journey by the time Blake had begun hers. He must have had a whole team assembled by now. It has been over a year since he had set off after all.

Her phone went off and she opened it, holding it to her face. “Hey Kitten,” the voice over the phone seemed to purr out. Her cheeks coloured, she kept telling him to stop calling her that! “I heard that you just started out. How long ago now? A week?”

Blake shook her head glancing back at her companions. Yang and her younger sister Ruby tilted their heads at her. “It’s been two weeks since I started,” she replied rolling her eyes. They’ve been texting every day since he had left, she would have expected that he would remember “And you said you’d come back home to see me off,” she added sadly.

He sighed heavily over the phone, “Blake,” his tone weighed. “Things have been hectic for me. How about we meet Lumiose City? How close are you to it?”

Her heart soared, “I’m actually just walking into the city now.” Ruby looked up at the buildings, her head all the way back as she tried to see the end of them. Some buildings she could, some she couldn’t. The younger girl jumped in place, and called to them.

“Look at this place!” She exclaimed gesturing to everything she saw in the city.

“I’ll come hind you then,” he voiced, “see you in a few minutes.”

And the call cut off.  


	20. Knowing your place

Adam was found by the Belladonna family when both Blake and he were still young. He was a slave, branded by another master. He should have handed him over to the boy’s master to deal with. The child’s clothes were covered in blood; his neck, arms and the bottom of his feet as well. Blake had taken a liking to the red haired child who sobbed loudly when his wife had taken him in her arms.

Adam filled out in his time with them. Blake had insured that his stay with them was comfortable, even if he had made him stay in the stable with the horses. The redhead and her had found a loft in it were he slept at night. During the day he had made Adam work the fields with the family and the help. And when the day came that Adam showed signs of interest in learning the art of battle, he had taught him.

Night after night until there was nothing left to be taught.

In a way he had grown to care about him too. His son (and Blake’s younger brother), Francis, was a weak boy. Ailing despite all their best efforts. In a sense, he had found another son in Adam. A son that could do field work and pick up the sword. A son that took it upon himself to guard Blake when she would go to town and keep those filthy men and boys away from his darling daughter.

But of course he saw the looks Blake and Adam would exchange. Like doomed lovers those two where.

 His family wasn’t high in stature; he had his health and his land to his name. A large farm, a couple of horses and a pair of strong oxen.  That was all he had to pass down to his son. So the day that a lordling came strolling through his door wanting his daughter’s hand. The man wasn’t going to turn an offer like that away. A way to insure that his daughter was cared for for the remainder of her days.

“You’re getting married,” he said sighing one night. After a hard day’s work and a week of thinking over how he would broach the topic of her engagement. A look of pure horror blanketed Blake’s face, her eyes moving to the redhead’s back. He stood shock still, his back straight and tense, refusing to turn to the family.

She gaped, the situation truly setting in. Her mouth closed as she stood, jaw clenching and fists bunching at her sides. “No,” she argued titling her head up at him in defiance. Her strong demeanor breaking when she spared a glance at Adam silently begging him to voice his own complaints.

He did not.

The man ground his teeth together, “he’s a slave Blake. You can’t marry a slave!” He shouted and his hand rose. Blake flinched; his darling little girl flinched because of him. His hand dropped and he turned, storming across the room throwing his wife’s pots and trinkets instead. “I should have returned him to his master,” he shook his head muttering to himself.

He should’ve done a lot of things. And taking Adam in was one of the biggest mistakes that he had ever made in regards to his daughter. They were too close; he allowed them to grow too attached.

“Then I’ll take Adam with me,” she voiced shyly. Fearful of her father’s rage.

He snarled turning his attention back to her, “His branded as a slave. Do you want your fiancé to send him to the gladiator arena? ‘Cause that’s where he’d go!” Blake bit her lip, turning her head away from him. Her dark hair fanning out and flying behind her as she turned as ran from the house. The man pinched the bridge of his nose, eyeing the red-haired man. Adam’s head tilted in his direction, eyes lowered.

“I know my place, sir,” Adam spoke his voice catching.

The man nodded, “then go get her.” 


	21. Bleed Me Dry

He pulled against the ropes around his wrists, it bit and tore at the bleeding skin and he ground his teeth together. The flames flickered and burned outside the cell as the flames grew and flickered. He should’ve listened to his own kind, should’ve stayed to his realm with his burning and slaughtering of stupid humans who had ventured too far into demon territory.

Ha, demons.

These humans didn’t even know what a true demon looked like, Adam and his kind weren’t demons. They were the forgotten children of faes and witches, of shapeshifters and half-demons. None of them were devils, none of them have seen the depths of hell or had spoken to the Master of Death nor with the Keeper of Hell.

They had said that Adam burned hot like the flames of Hell-- well, one of the levels with flames. Adam had heard that Hell was frozen in one section and barren of anything in another. His nostrils flared as his skin heated and the ropes sang-- these humans enchanted metal and fastened it into a rope. Shit. Fuck!

The runes on his body glowed, shining red and the air crackled around him. Burning and igniting nothing but his own skin and he panted and his shoulders dropped.

This was all because of a pretty face; a pretty face that had then began to warm his bed and kiss him sweetly. Her hair was like black silk and eyes like liquid gold. A princess, his mind had supplied from memories of long ago. She was striking in appearance-- how could Adam resist the pull of the situation?

He had kept his distance from her, leading her deeper into the forest and away from her people. Away from the safety of her castles, towns, and cities. Away from everything that she knew and towards adventure, and mystery. She had went willing, eyes wide and head turning to take in the sights and sounds of the forest around her.

When he had shown himself; the markings on his skin glowing a deep red, horns long, and chest naked of hair and cloth. The metal of his armor glowed, enchanted like the beast in front of her and the forest around them. She was curious, like a cat, and Adam was immediately intrigued- he had tilted his head up at her flexing ever the slightest.

He would deny doing this later, when she had broken out in chuckles and he had lit a section of the forest on fire in his shock at the sound. It was even more lovely than her appearance; it wasn’t his fault this girl was a trap.

Something- someone that beautiful was always a trap. He should know this by now, his kind led people into the forest with their beauty and ate them. He should’ve been thinking with his head instead of his dick. Shouldn’t have let her live that night, he shouldn’t have led her to his home. He shouldn’t have smiled at her and showed her the full moon glittering on the lake while the moon in the sky was blue and hidden. He shouldn’t have taken her face in his hands and kissed her gently, minding his razor like teeth against her. He shouldn’t have laid her down on his bed of furs and silks and made love to her. He shouldn’t have kept her in the forest and in his home for those three months.

He should’ve brought her back to the thinnest part of the forest where one could see the human settlements, should’ve lead her back to the city like he had done when they were children when she had first followed the red of his hair and the flicker of his runes.

He shouldn’t have fallen in love with her, and she for him. He should’ve known better than to tie themselves to each other. If he were to die here now so would she- and he would do everything in his power to see that that would never be the case. His darling Blake, so beautiful and so sweet. She was far too… innocent for this.

He shouldn’t have let her return to her own kind.

And he shouldn’t have followed her.

The court mage and the healer had opened his cell then and the guards had dragged him from the cell, up the stairs and into the courtyard where a pier was created and displayed. They thought that they could burn him?! Ha! He snarled and dug his heels into the ground, he through his weight against one of the guards and they stumbled just enough for Adam to kick the other guard away and break free.

His hands were tied in front of him and he leveled the court mage a hard stare as the markings on his flesh burned bright. Flickering like the flames in the courtyard, and the people cried out in riot and in fright. “Kill it!” they shouted, and he couldn’t care. He wanted Blake and that was all. He would take her from her own kind and they could be with own.

Where it was safe for her to bare his child that she carried- she didn’t even know herself but her aura was different, there was more than before. The mage grinned wickedly and tilted her head in the direction of the pier, and despite everything warning him not to he did. His mate struggled against the confines; against the rope that tied her to it, her hair and clothing soaked in oil. He turned back to the mage in horror, his heart in his throat.

They were going to kill the both of them.

His limbs heavy and numb when the guards and dragged him to a stage, chaining him it to face his mate. The Priest shouted out to the crowd, preaching things that Adam had no care of. Not when Blake was crying and struggling to free herself opposite from him. He pulled at the chains and they howled sending a shockwave through his body that sent his body spasming against the floor of the stage. The runes on his skin flickered and flames flew from his body and igniting all those on the stage with him.

The mage’s lips pulled up in a feral grin as she stepped on to the stage, passed the spasming bodies of guards and religious men as they shouted and burned to their death. She tipped a torch into one of the flames and winked at him when she noticed his maroon eyes glaring up at her. “Say your goodbyes now,” she chuckled and left the stage with the lit torch.

His eyes followed her towards the pier, and up the stairs. “No,” he whispered pulling against his restraints as he jerked his body upwards. The chains sparked as he pulled at them, “No!” he shouted and the humans around him jerked in shock. “Don’t you fucking dare!” he shouted in the mortal tongue of her people and he could hear her whimper and cry and beg when the mage grew closer.

The mage said something to Blake that Adam couldn’t hear and his black haired mate pulled against the ropes. The woman of white, that mage bitch, dropped the torch into the pile of wood and hay. For a moment Adam had prayed that it wouldn’t ignite, and for a moment it did what he had prayed-- Blake cried then and the pier burst into light in a loud woomth. The fire burned oddly, in a weird colour as it touched the oil and licked at her skin.

The words leaving Adam’s mouth now were from his own kind, “listen as the demon speaks in his tongue! He’s trying to damn us all to Hell!” One of the religious men called out, “Strike him down oh Holy Spirit!” A guard banished a whip of gold and white, ringing out a Holy tune as it struck his burning skin.

Adam could feel the flames that were burning his mate under his skin and incapable of burning him. He could hear her screams and cries as she choked and slowly died, he couldn’t feel the lashes that struck his back and chest. He couldn’t see much past the watering of his eyes. He couldn’t hear his own voice cursing and begging in his own tongue to save her. All he heard was her, and even when her voice had stopped he heard nothing but the crackle of the flames as it licked and burned her remains.

He too would die now, but not yet.

The heartbreak was not yet in full effect.

The air crackled loudly around him--they wanted a death by fire?! His spine bowed and cracked, arching this way and that as he grit his teeth. His skin felt like it ought to be melting off his bones and the pants that he wore were in fact burning away to nothing. The marking on his skin burned a deep red, like blood, as it lifted from his skin and encased his body in flames. The chains holding the cuffs around his wrists melted then.

The crowd had panicked then, falling over themselves as he stood. The King, called from his men to kill the demon. Adam grinned, the flames soaring from his body in a pulse before racing back to him in a loud boom. His body changed then fully in those few seconds of confusion. Adam, or at least the beast that Adam had become, let out a roar of anger and of pain.

He’d burn them all.

He’d see to it that every man, woman and child. Every animal from dog and horse to mouse and rat burned with them. The dark flames leapt from his body again and as he stomped his hoof against the ground molten lava geysered from cobblestone courtyard.

He would usher them all to Hell with him, he would pay his toll in their blood and their souls. He would gladly fall to the lowest levels of Hell to avenge his darling Blake, to see that these humans would hurt just as she did.

He let out a final cry when every last person hard burned, when every last cry of pain was silence in their death. The white woman had burned just like the rest, her magic and wickedness couldn’t save her. And finally he smiled, halting before the burned and charred flesh of his beloved, with his monstrous claws pressed against her crackling flesh.

“I’ll be with you soon enough my darling,” he growled out in her tongue so that she would know what he spoke of. He fell to his knees, heart slowing as the heartbreak set in. He could feel the organ tearing in his chest as it slowly shattered.

Adam’s eyes shut as he coughed, the blood surging up his throat. He just wanted it to be over now-- the sooner he died the sooner he could take his mate into his arms again in the afterlife.

  
  



	22. Collision prt. 1

The thing about living on a Co-ed dorm floor was if and when mistakes happened, they happened embarrassingly big. Or at least in the case for Blake. It started out with her parents choosing a gender neutral name for her, and raising her in a gender neutral environment. Or at least that’s what they thought they were doing.

Growing up Blake did have the mixture of girl toys and boy toys. But while Blake’s friends dressed in dresses and wore pretty bows of a variety of feminine colours Blake had clothing that was a ‘gender neutral colour’. Now that she was older she can look back and say “nice try Mum and Dad,” at their efforts. But growing up, and even now, Blake wanted to wear hair bows, skirts, dresses, and fancy cleavage revealing shirts. The cleavage part only really came into effect after she developed a nice rack.

And she did get to start indulging in feminine clothing… in grade nine. By then the boys all thought that she was just one of the guys and ‘friend-zoned’ her; she couldn’t even say “I like you” to her crushes without getting it brushed off and “I liked you too, man.” It was honestly extremely annoying.

While don’t get her wrong, raising your child to be gender neutral is fantastic! Just y’know… listen to your kid when they say “Mum, Dad, can I start wearing dresses and skirts now.” Her mother had played it off to her succumbing to peer pressure. As you can see it wasn’t the fact that she was raised to be open in her gender, and in extension her sexuality, it was more the fact that her parents weren’t listening to her.

And that’s pretty much how it started. It shouldn’t have been much of a problem seeing as Blake moved away from home for school and is currently in a dorm on campus (actually moving into a dorm on campus). Cue the parties, the drunken nightly adventures, the boys, the kissing and the sex! Just what Blake was actually waiting for. Eighteen years old and she hasn’t even kissed a boy!

Her parents said that they had already deposited her stuff in her dorm while she was out getting her student card and other fun stuff like that. With a paper in hand, a full stomach and her parents driving back home (about six hours away. Thank you!) Blake stepped into her dorm building. She glanced at the paper and then to the numbers beside the doors- most of them were open and welcoming as the students mingled and got to know each other and settle into their environment.

It was a mistake on her part- totally a mistake on her part!

She walked into the dorm room and glanced up from the paper. Her cheeks flushed and her body froze. There was a boy in this room. There was a shirtless boy in this room! The auburn haired male turned to face her with a raised brow. The light brought her attention to his chest-  _“Oh god,”_ those were nipple rings. An incredible urge to lick them sent her stomach into a frenzy. On top of all the tattoos covering his upper arms, back and pectoral, the guy actually had body piercings. That was… that was so incredibly hot.

The auburn haired male smirked; the corner of his lips pulling up to show teeth and his gaze dropped. She may have subconsciously puffed out her chest slightly when his gaze travelled to that area. His maroon eyes seemed to take her in to the very shoes that she was wearing before moving back up (and again she may or may not have taken a deep breath when his eyes passed over her breasts).

His face seemed to soften slightly then, “name’s Adam. I’m a second year,” he drawled out. Even his voice was attractive!

This was not her room, Blake suddenly realized. Her roommate was a girl named Yang, also a first year… and y’know, a girl. She smacked herself with the paper to hide her flustered face, “Blake, and this is not my room. I’m so sorry!” She rushed out before turning and jogging from the room… and to the room on the exact opposite of the hall.

Her room was to the right, not the left. 


	23. Collision prt. 2

The next time they bumped into each other it was... painful and literal.

She was glancing down at her books in her hand, trying to balance them again as she pocketed her student card and phone in the back pocket of her jeans. She glanced up then, letting out a shocked yelp when they collided. His hand gripped her back to hold her against him, a few of her books spilling to the floor. Her eyes were level with his chest, and her cheeks darkened as she tilted her head up to get a look at male.

She noticed the smug smirk on his lips then his maroon eyes. "Sorry," she glanced back down to his chest now pushing against it to get some distance.

Adam smirked, "I was looking at my phone," he tilted his head to the side to get a better look at her face. "We'll blame this one on me, alright?" He winked and removed his hands from her back, stepping back so he could begin to collect up the fallen books.

Blake's cheeks reddened further and she quickly dropped to her knees to begin to help him gather up the mess. "You don't need to help me pick this up," she avoided eye contact with him as she plucked the last book up from the floor.

Adam handed over the books that he had collected, "I'm using it as an excuse." The man stood up at that, brushing the dirt and dust from his pant legs.

"An excuse for what?" she inquired before standing up as well. Unlike Adam she didn't try to brush the seemingly imaginary dust and dirt from her legs, she was just going to go to her room and hang around with Yang until they went out for dinner.

"To talk to you longer," he shrugged. He made it seem so easy; that grin of his made her heart race and her cheeks heat. He must have had a lot of practice- that's the only thing that Blake could come up with. It couldn't be his natural self, it just had to be from experience. And Blake found that hot, incredibly hot.

Maybe it was because she lacked experience in romance and anything even hinting at that possibility. It would make sense, if she were to dive further into that line of thought, that even flirting was so difficult for her. "Why would you need an excuse for that?" she hugged the books to her chest and tilted her body to the side. She felt like tucking a hair behind her ear, but didn't trust herself not to drop the books if she moves her arms again.

Adam shrugged, "last time you bolted," he teased. Or, Blake assumed he was teasing her. That crooked grin of his mixing with that devilishly styled hair and piercing eyes were getting her all confused. Should she be turned on? Should she not? She wasn't sure.

"Last time you were shirtless," she replied with a raise of her brow and a cock of her hip.

He chuckled, lips pulling up into a grin now. A true one, not that crooked grin that looked more a smirk than anything. "Oh is that it then?" his voice dropped then, the fingers of his left hand toying with the hem of his shirt. "I can change that," he winked.

The black haired girl flushed, "I will run away," she mumbled unable to hide her flustered face this time around. "Please don't," she added.

He tsked, rolling his eyes dramatically, "what a shame." She glanced back up at him at that. His grin softened, "don't be a stranger Blake. I would love to talk to you more, unfortunately I have a class I'm running late to."

Blake smiled, "then go to class slacker." The slacker part was a slip of the tongue, she had felt like saying it and it seems like she had. Adam scoffed, his knuckles brushing against the skin of her arm as he passed.

The second meeting went a lot better than the first; she was grinning to herself as she opened her dorm room where Yang was sitting there waiting. "So I see you've got yourself a crush on our neighbor. Nice choice," the blonde girl teased. Blake glared throwing her pillow at her roomie.


	24. Collision prt. 3

Count her lucky stars—much to her embarrassment. With a fluffy white towel tucked under her arms and a bag with all her toiletries and clothes hanging from her shoulder Blake stopped dead in her tracks with the door closing heavily behind her. She would like to remind everyone every time this story would resurface that it was completely due to the fact that she had just woken up and decided that it was a perfect time for a shower. It didn't help that the layout of her floor was idiotic and the male and female showers were right beside each other. Seriously, who planned that?

He raised a brow at her entrance, “we really need to stop meeting like this,” he said with a smirk. One of his hands checking on the knot that was keeping his towel in place around his naked hips. Blake blinked, her mind not yet working at the speed that it was normally at. She stared at him, squinting her eyes at him. “Blake, you're in the boys showers,” he spoke again the other corner of his lips pulling up to form a grin. She was far to precious when like this—perfect. 

She turned pulling the door open and glanced up at the sign on the door. She blinked owlishly, the sign seemed to kick start her brain and the gears began to turn. She glanced back at Adam and her face darkened, “I'm so so sorry!” She blushed rushing out of the male showers and into the girls—which, again were right beside each other. 

Yang turned at her entrance, “you left before me, where the hell were you hiding?” She was hooking her bag filled with clothes and accessories on the hook by the stall. She pulled out a bottle of shampoo and a bottle of conditioner as she regarded the black hair girl as she scurried to the stall beside her. 

“I walked into the boys showers,” Blake replied with a blush, the image of the tattooed man still burning in her vision each time she closed her eyes. “Annnd, I saw Adam in there,” she pressed her face against the dividers. 

Yang's eyes widened, “did you see anything?” she grinned wickedly a twinkle in her eyes as she regarded her roommate in a new light. “And why aren't you there still? You could be climbing all up against that smexy piece of male specimen and getting it on—you should really go back there and at least get that boy's number.” 

Blake blush darkened, “what? No! I didn't even see much! Just his chest—you know just the tattoos and the piercings,” she pulled the curtain closed and undressed. She stuffed her pyjamas into the corner and stepped into the shower area and closed that section off as well. 

“I know about the tattoos but this is the first time I've heard about the piercings, and trust me I talk to his roommate,” Yang's voiced over the sound of rushing water. The water ran from both their shower stalls and into the drain between their stalls. “Tell me what kind of piercings they are, did he get his collar bone pierced? I hear those a new big thing now—but I honestly would think he—“

“His nipples,” Blake blurted out loudly. The other stall got quiet, the sounds of water hitting the tiled ground sounded for moments before the curtain for her shower jerked open and Yang's blonde head of hair could be seen. Blake screeched gripping the curtain to her chest and front. “What the hell, Yang!?”

Yang ignored the last part, “did you feel them? How did they look? Were they sexy? Did you lick them? I heard that they could make your nipples more sensitive, or so I'm told. I kinda want one for that reason—but seriously, why didn't you just jump in the shower with him?” The blonde fired question after question at him, and Blake just wanted to shower in peace. Was that truly too much to ask?

“I'll tell you everything I can, just please let me shower!” Blake begged with a pout on her lips. Yang stared at her, eyes narrowing. The brunette believed in those few seconds where only the sound of water splattering and rushing down the drain filled the room that Yang wouldn't let this go.

Yang's forefinger and middle pointed to her eyes as she squinted at her, “you better,” and she flicked her wrist towards Blake in a _I'm watching you_ motion. Blake nodded quickly, anything to get Yang back to her own shower and Blake left in peace. “Good, we'll talk about this in our room!”  


	25. I Didn't Know

“You fucked up Taurus,” the man turned away from the voice his shoulders tensed, raised, teeth grinding together. It was his fault, he took on the responsibility of mentoring Blake. It was a risk that he always took, he believed that she could do it—and she did. Things were going well, since she'd left he hadn't heard of her return to these parts. Not until Roman that is. “She's your responsibility even if she's gone.”

“I'm aware, sir,” he replied turning back to face his boss, “do whatever you must.”

 

Everything was fine. Perfect even. Doing well in her classes, getting along with her teammates—everything between her and the Schnee heiress blown over and taken care of. Sun still had a habit of popping up at the most random of times, startling them with his energy. But it was a welcome change in the routine. “Blake?” the voice made her turn, her eye brow already raised as she regarded the boy, a little older than she, in a plain slate gray mask.

Her eyes narrowed then, “what can I help you with?” she questioned, eyes narrowing. What on earth was a member of the White Fang doing here?

The grunt reached into his jacket pocket pulling out a crisp white envelope, “it pertains to Adam.” The envelope was snatched from his hands quickly—she hadn't heard that name in a long time. Accompanied with the sudden appearance of a White Fang member at Beacon made her stomach sink. She tore it open, and eminently brought her hand up to her mouth.

**Stay out of our way, Blake.**

She sank to the ground, the images burning in her mind—burning her eyes as she continued to stare. “Is he alive?” her voice trembled. The boy shrugged his shoulders in reply—he didn't know. And that was the worst, the unknowing. The thought of him still in pain, right this very second.

 _I did this._ She thought, over and over and over again.

The boy walked away then; turning tail and running from the campus. His job complete, message delivered. Blake felt like vomiting, her stomach turning fiercely. “Blake?” Nora had kneeled beside her, “Blake?” she repeated her tone serious, for one of the rare times. Nora took a glance at the photos in Blake's hands, gripped tightly at the corner. Blake glanced up at her then, tears gathering on her bottom lashes, and finally letting a sob loose. Nora gathered the Faunus into her arms quickly, tucking the girl's head under her chin as she wrapped her arms around her.

The sobs grew louder, into broken wails. Her shoulders, then body shaking and her tears soaking Nora's shirt.   


	26. Collision prt. 4

Two trays clattered beside them causing both girls to pause in their chatter. “I figured you might start avoiding me after that little incident,” his voice cut in. His chin resting on his palm, his smirk causing her to fluster. Blake turned her head away from him to glare at Yang on the other side of the table.

“I wouldn't allow her to do that, hot stuff” Yang beamed, winking at the pair on the opposite side of the table. Blake glared at her roommate, then at Adam when he laughed. Yang turned her head to the right, kissing the air, “Hello to you as well Junior.” The large man beside her smiled his cheek puffing out as he chewed his food.

“I've been thinking,” Adam voiced turning his attention back to Blake, “you and I should go out and grab something to eat sometime. I mean you've nearly seen everything I've had to offer, I think its only fair.” The black haired girl was torn, torn between wanting to laugh, blush, or duck under the table and dig a tunnel back to her room and just die there. She did neither, settling with hiding her face behind her hands while Yang snorted in amusement.

“That was weak,” Junior stated smugly. Glad to see that Adam's lady game was failing—it was about time he was able to see some of his epic fails. Roman typically was the one that rode wing-man in the lady situations.

Adam grimaced, “I'm used to showing them the goods after I've asked them out, not before. Its a little new, so shut up shithead you can't ask a girl out for shit.” Junior glared, the gears in his brain grinding as they turned.

“Pick me up at eight tomorrow night, I'm in the mood for Chinese.” Yang grinned at the man beside her. She wasn't one to turn away the possibility of a free dinner—best part though would have to be if she could get Blake to agree. “You and Adam are more than welcome to join us,” the blonde raised a brow in her roommate's direction.

 _Ooh, Chinese._ Blake bit at the corner of her lip as she thought it over. She loved Chinese, and it wasn't like this would be an actual date. “Sure, sounds good,” she smiled cheeks only barely tinting in a light pink hue.

-

Yang had stuffed her in the booth before _suggesting_ that Adam should take the spot beside her, he had rolled his eyes at her actions claiming that that's what he was planning on doing anyways. “Junior and I are going to get our food first, you guys stay here watch my shit and flirt a bit—kay?” Yang's personality, her confidence more so than anything, was both refreshing and draining for Blake. Blake loved the fact that her friend and roommate could say the things she longs to say so easily, annoyed as well though. Like, for example, the fact that she was sitting here with this attractive boy that in turn found her attractive as well was so new... so scary that Blake didn't know what to say to him. This was the boy she keeps making a fool out of herself in front of!

“So, first date in your University experience?” Adam voiced, leaning against the back rest.

Blake shook her head, “first date ever, actually,” she huffed to herself. It wasn't like she hadn't tried going out on dates, just... no one wanted to go out on one with her before.

“No shit, really?” the disbelief in his voice made her heart flutter and insides feel all warm and fluffy. It felt good—he actually was surprised by this.

Her cheeks darkened but her lips pulled up into a huge grin. “Yeah, I shit you not. A lot of people thought that I was either a boy or a really weird girl in the earlier part of grade school. The guys kinda considered me as one of their own, and well... the guys don't date their 'boyz',” Blake rolled her eyes at the memory, typically these thoughts left a bitter taste in her mouth and an ache in her heart—the memories would play like a shitty movie reel of one rejection after the other. But this time it was different.

Adam winced, “that sounds really shitty.” From there the topics open for conversation were open, and pertaining to anything. They continued to chat while they got up to get their own food when the pair had returned, Blake had piled some food on his plate much to his shock.

“I don't have any room left on my plate and you had some room right there that you weren't filling quick enough,” she had grinned before turning her back to him and returning to the table with her spoils. Adam had shook his head at her fondly, adding a few more things to his plate before following the path that she had went.

With Junior and Yang at the table, Blake wasn't as open as before. She still talked and laughed at the right times, but for the most part she spent eating her food and stealing the pile of food that she had piled on Adam's plate. Their dinner was reaching a closing, “want to go exploring?” Blake inquired as she zipped up her sweater.

“Sounds like a plan.” He nodded at Junior waving him off as he and Yang made their way towards the car. “See you back at the room,” he called out to the larger man.

They took a right from the restaurant, following the sidewalk were they then took a left. Blake's hand gripped his elbow, her other hand gesturing as she spoke. The breeze picking up the tips of her hair, blowing to too and fro in gentle wisps. He grasped her hand in his, pushing her hand down his arm to his wrist where he had let go over her. She stopped talking, glancing down at her hand where she brought her fingers down to weave through his fingers. She looked away from him then, her cheeks hot. “Hey look a park,” she grinned and began to pull him towards the swings.

She had let go of his hand to take the metal chains into hand, sitting on the seat and kicking her feet out. “You're wearing a dress,” Adam voiced staring at her cream colour legs before returning to her face.

She grinned and shrugged, “I'm aware, but I don't care really.” She gestured for him to join her on the swing beside her and he did, kicking his feet out. He had asked her a question, followed by another and another. And she had answered, asking him a couple as well—until growing bored of the swing set and jumping off. She had took off running, laughing loudly when Adam tore after her. She had leaped onto the play structure and climbing up to the upper levels. He jumped onto one of the lower level landings, shocking the young woman but causing her smile to widen. “You think you can catch me?” she teased leaning back against one of the bars.

Adam shook his head, “I already have. You just don't know it.” Blake made a dive to the slide just as Adam's last leap landing right beside her. His arms wrapping around her middle as pushing them both down the slide.

Adam shifted when the reached the bottom, his leg tangling with her's with one arm still holding her against him. She stopped breathing, holding her breath at the look he was giving her. He was looking at her lips, his head tilting slightly. Calculating, and she could see it. He was holding himself back, leaning forward slowly... and then his eyes met her's and the words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them. “I've never dated anyone before. Never been on a date, never even had my first kiss.” The spell was broken, he was beginning to pull back again. His chest no longer pressed against her's. “It's not for a lack of trying... it was just that I was always viewed as ' _just one of the guys'_ and I never know how to act around the guys that I like because of that. But I've already told you that,” she grimaced covering her face with her hand.

Adam sat up then, chuckling lightly, “you're nervous. It's perfectly fine Blake,” he glanced back at her smiling slightly when her yellow eyes glanced up at him. “I'm not mad, seriously.”

“But you're disappointed,” she stated sitting up as well. She felt awkward laying down while he sat up.

“Stuff happens, Blake. Its nothing to worry about. If something's gonna happen it'll just happen, don't worry about it. Ask me a question about anything, might get you to stop sweating the small stuff,” he grinned.

She ground her teeth together but sighed heavily, “So what other piercings do you have?”

The man grinned, “oh wouldn't you like to know,” his voice deep. Blake's jaw dropped and so did her gaze, focusing on his jean covered crotch with a blush on her cheeks. Her eyes darting back to his face, “it's for you do find out.”

\--

On the way back to the dorm the pair had taken a tumble into the main fountain. They had left dripping wet and laughing nearly hysterically, Blake's mascara begin to run. She had laughed leaning against the wall beside her door her smile causing his stomach to flop. He rested an arm against the wall behind her, the texture of the wall digging into his elbow as he bowed his head to brush their noses together.

Her eyes fluttered closed and she gripped each side of his face, sealing their lips together with a moan. Finally, finally she was kissing someone. He tilted his head, hitting better against her as he pushed forward his body pressing against her and the wall solid again her back. She opened her mouth before he had even pressed his tongue against her lips. A metal ball pushed against her tongue and clinking against the back of her teeth. She pulled away at that, “you have your tongue pierced?”

He glared at her, “we were kissing.” He tangled a hand into the wet hair at the back of her head, pulling attention back to kissing when he licked into her mouth continuing where he was interrupted. 


	27. The Corner Kids Crew: Cut Me Open

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second part to that Christmas Au. Now with trigger warnings and highschool

He stared down at his hands, clenching and unclenching his fists, forcing the blood out from his veins. It dripped down his arms and over his hands, through his fingers and down onto the floor of the tub. It was easier to clean this way—no one would be the wiser. He grabbed the bottle of vodka from the lip of the bathtub, taking a sip before pouring a fair bit on each arm and taking another sip before setting it back down on the tub. It stung fiercely, but he wasn't looking to kill himself with them.

At least not yet.

He began to wrap them up again, the white bandage darkening as the blood soaked through. He took care of them—made sure that they didn't get infected. That's one thing he wouldn't want; after doing this for so long without getting caught and no one questioning him why he wore long sleeves, sweaters or jackets anymore. Even when they knew he ran hotter than a lot of other people. He would tell them its comfort, and it was in a way. It was a comfort in knowing that he could cover them with these shirts—even when he worked out.

When he played sports he could wear the underarmor shirt and no one would bat an eye at it. He just had to remember not to cut a few days before a game. All the physical contact and the flexing and jolting of his arms would open up the cuts at the worst of times.

“Adam,” his Aunt knocked on the bathroom door. The teenager jerked out of his thoughts and stared at the door in horror—did he remember to lock the door? “Roman's downstairs, do you want me to tell him to wait in your room?” She inquired. Adam nodded, his heart in his throat.

He remembered that his Aunt couldn't see him after a second of silence from her end, “yeah I'll be right out,” he cleared his throat. He turned the tap with a jerk of his wrists and the water came rushing out. The water gathering around his feet was red and he jerked his feet back and forth. He washed his hands at the same time, rinsing the blood and vodka from his hands.

He'd have to take a shower later tonight then to make sure to get everything, this right now was mostly to make sure that no one caught him right now. He grabbed his black towel, it was the first thing he learned if he was going to do this always towel yourself off with something dark just in case you missed a little bit of blood. He dried off his legs and feet, followed by his hands. The water was still running as he stepped into his pants again, and throwing the long sleeved shirt on again.

He glanced down at his switchblade, then towards the tub. The blood was almost gone, and he had already cleaned off the blade. He grabbed the knife, pocketing it before stuffing the bandages back under the skin and hanging his towel back up. He slowly twisted the knob, his other hand pushing the remaining bloody water to the drain.

He waited until everything went down, checking the tub again before deeming it clean. He toweled off his hands again before opening the door with a bottle of vodka in one hand and the pressure of a switchblade in his pocket. “Hey man, what's up?” he nodded at the orange haired teen.

Roman stared at him, his eyes narrowing at his hair and then at the rest of his appearance. Adam ground his teeth under his gaze, he huffed as he turned around to dig through his dresser on the opposite side of the room. Roman's favourite spot to sit was in his computer chair, the computer desk and double monitor taking up a huge section of his room. “I had long talk with Blake after school today,” he said, the computer chair creaking as he shifted.

Adam placed the bottle on top of his dresser, the knife still weighing heavily in his pocket. “And what did she say?” he turned to face his friend slowly. This whole situation was setting off redflags, and he felt himself bristle and tense in reaction—in preparation from what might come.

Roman stood, taking a step towards Adam, “she mentioned something that we've all been noticing for a long time now, but never really mentioned. She said you winced when she grabbed your arm last week, after that big home game. Remember that?”

Adam ground his teeth, yeah he remembered that. Of course he would remember that.

He and Blake had had a falling out around middle school, and they both kinda just drifted apart. Both of them were trying to figure who they were as people, and in that process they kinda left the other behind. In High School they were awkward around each other, everyone mentioned that. They liked to bring up that one Christmas play that they did in grade school where they kissed. Adam would still feel his heart quicken at that, the feelings for Blake never quiet leaving him as much as he would like. No matter how many other girls he's dated, kissed, or had sex with.

This was his last year of high school, and he kept thinking of ways that he could ask her out to prom. And that day he had stumbled into her in the halls, it wasn't even the end of November and the seniors (and a few Juniors) were already talking about prom and what they would do, who they would go with, what they'd wear. She was with her friends when he overheard Yang mention the possibility of Junior taking her to prom, Ruby had piped in saying that maybe Adam would take Blake.

The brunette had laughed and informed them that they'd most likely only be going as friends if that were the case. He has ground his teeth at that and moved to turn around and go back the way he came; he had decided this a little too late. The girls had spotted him and Blake came running after him. She had grabbed his arm.

“Yeah I remember,” he replied teeth grinding against each other as he stared back at the orange haired teen. Roman's gaze lowered to his left arm before glancing back up at Adam's face, “what the fuck are you looking at?” Adam growled out noticing the change in his friend's body posture and the flicker in his eyes.

“Show me your arms,” Roman demanded not looking away from Adam's face now. The orange haired senior stood squared up much like Adam, he's been friends with Adam for long enough—he was the new holder of Adam's longest and best friend (seeing that Blake and Adam weren't really but kinda, sorta friends. They weren't completely sure themselves)—to know when Adam was squaring up for a fight and there was no way out of it.

Roman was his friend, and he was in it for the long haul god damn it!

“Suck a dick,” Adam hissed back at him. That's when Roman dove towards him, his shoulders knocking into Adam's chest and pushed him until they both toppled over onto the bed in a loud bang. The movement knocked the air from his lungs, and he groaned as Roman's elbow dug into his ribs and pushed. No matter how much muscles Roman put on, his elbows were always extremely boney—it was painful.

Roman pushed up the sleeve of Adam's shirt, the blood staining the once white bandages a dark pink, almost a red now. “Shit,” he cursed with wide eyes staring at the stains.

Adam flipped their positions, the arm that Roman was just staring at pressing against his neck and collar bone as he pinned him against the bed. “You don't say a fucking thing,” he snarled, adding more pressure to the arm against Roman's neck. “Don't you dare say anything to my Aunt or to Blake—” The door of his bedroom opened and his Aunt stepped in, her expression worried. The commotion that the two high school seniors were making most likely captured her attention.

“What is that?” she said, eyes focused on the bandage around Adam's arm. Adam stood, rolling down his sleeve in all one movement. She stepped into the room, “Adam what the hell is on your arm?” her voice raised in panic.

His pulse roared in his ears as his Aunt approached him, “It's nothing Aunt Claire.” He winced to himself, that was a horrible lie. He normally came up with lies way better than that—this one was just screaming that something was wrong and that was the last thing he wanted. Everything was going just fine, why did Blake have to mention something to Roman and why did Roman have to come here to have this little chat?

Fuck. Fuck, fuck FUCK!

God fucking damn it!

She gripped his arm, and rolled up the sleeve as he panicked silently. He wanted to push her away, throw her if need be. His muscles flinched to do just that, but his mind screamed at him to stop. To remember just who this woman was—this was his Aunt, the woman that raised him. So he stood there as she grabbed his arm, raising it to her eye level and pulled the shirt down to his elbow. He stood there in silence as her eyes watered and her face went stern. “Roman, grab his wallet” her voice was chilled and harsh, her grip tightening as she pulled him out of his room and towards the front door. “Put your shoes on,” she said slipping into her own shoes. He did what he was told, stepping into his Vans.

Roman locked the door behind him, following both of them into the elevator then out into the parking lot. The ride down was filled with silence, tension and an overall feeling of _I should've waited until his Aunt left to have this conversation_. But she had the right to know—she was his Aunt, Adam's only next of kin left. When they got to the car, Claire had _stuffed_ him into the passenger seat while Roman silently sat in the back behind Adam.

Both teenagers had no clue where they were going as the woman started the car with a sharp twist of her wrist and jerk of her arm.

“Where are we going?” Adam questioned, his Aunt reclaiming her hold on his arm. She didn't reply; Adam ground his teeth and digging his knuckles against his forehead in annoyance.

In the back seat Roman pulled up a text conversation with the group (plus Blake).

“ **Its done.** ”—Roman

The phone lit up in his hands moments later, **“What happened? How is he?”** —Blake replied, Cinder adding a couple of question marks.

“ **His Aunt freaked out. She's been extremely quiet, we're both in the car with her. Adam's pissed and I may walk out of here with only a few bruises.”** And maybe an unfriending, Roman added to himself. It was hard to say if Adam would forgive him later for this, he certainly hopped so. They were his friends and family they had every right to have this conversation with him.

Weighbridge Hospital.

The reaction from Adam was instantaneous. The redhead panicked, his free arm latching onto the door handle. Roman understood why he was accompanying them now—Adam had a fear of hospitals. His parents died on the way to a hospital, his uncle died in a hospital. Even though Claire worked as a nurse at this very hospital, it did nothing to numb the fear and panic. Roman grabbed Adam's hand and squeezed it when he tried to unlock the door.

“Adam,” Claire hushed, “Honey, we're only here to make sure you don't need medical help. If you don't fight I'll talk to the doctor and insure that you don't have to stay here under suicide watch. Calm down,” she whispered as she pulled into a parking spot.

Calm down? How the fuck did she expect him to calm down?! Adam's body shook and shuttered, he was tempted to just slam his elbow through the window. Everything felt wonky, tilted—he felt like he was submerged, the weight of the water pressing down on him from every side. His best friend had a death grip on his hand while his aunt held his other one—both of their grip tight, constricting. Trapping him, vision blurring around the edge as his breath quickened. Today wasn't supposed to be like this.

It was just going to be a normal day, he'd actually do some homework tonight... maybe finish that book that he had to read for class even. But no, no no. Adam's friends and family cornered him and tricked him. And as much as that direction of thoughts seemed pathetic and stupid in his head, it was true. It hit multiple cords and it stung. God, did it ever sting. He was so out of it that he didn't notice the car parking and his aunt leaving the car, nor when Roman followed her. The panicked teen freaked out, his mind shutting down but still overworking itself. He didn't feel Roman's hands wrap around his arm. His door now wide open, and the other teen was trying to talk to him. Adam stared at his lips, brows creased. The orange haired teenager spoke his name, repeating it... over and over again.

Nothing.

Adam body just shook, his eyes darting from subject to subject. Refusing to even look at Roman—and that's what stung. His best friend, so out of it that he had sent himself into such a panic. Unable to to even look at him. Roman's eyes dropped to the bandages wrapped around his friend's wrists; it felt like all the trust that they had built up since grade school had shattered.

But what he was doing was right—he was helping him, god damn it!!

It was then when Adam had another panic attack, the fifth one that Roman had seen him have. But this was the first time it was just Adam and him. The other times Cinder (or Blake those many many years ago) was there to rest a hand on the back of his neck and pulling him to their person. They had worked on distracting him and comforting. But Roman didn't know what to do, not after watching his friend grip his own hair and curling into himself. Adam's forehead pressed against his knees as he shook and chocked as he tried to suck in oxygen.

“Adam,” Roman spoke again his hand shaking as he touched his friend's head running his hand down to the base of his neck. “Everything's alright, I'm right here. We're not going anywhere, we're still in the car.” Roman just talked, his voice havering at times as he tried to remain calm. He wasn't sure if it was working, but Adam wasn't about to pass out so he considered it an improvement. Adam's aunt returned then.

With a wheelchair... and a needle.

Adam didn't even feel the prick, only the sensation of a sudden and unnatural calm. He had snapped his head up at the feeling, eyes drooping. They drugged him, he concluded feeling hands lift him from the car seat and sit him into a wheelchair. He saw a swirl of orange before nothing. He felt nothing, saw nothing, heard nothing.

For nearly ten hours.

 

 

He'd woken up in his bed, mouth dry and limbs heavy. They knew, they all fucking knew. And they sent him home so he wouldn't have another stupid freak out. He had rolled out of his bed slowly, or as quickly as his sluggish limbs would allow. On his feet his balance was shot, limbs heavy and soar as he moved them. He felt a sudden rage creep up slowly, it felt like it began in his gut as it turned the drugs and the panic (and the sudden change from panic attack to nothing) gave him a woozy feeling. The anger make the tips of his fingers tingle. In a second he he had his phone in hand, in the next it stuck out of the wall and swept two glasses from his desk. The other, the third, he had thrown against the far side of his room shattering it.

 

 

“I'm fine,” he hissed out between clenched teeth and arms folded over his chest. His aunt sat beside him looking between him and the therapist. The woman had insisted that his aunt join him, to watch their interactions or some stupid shit like that. His aunt had answered questions that the woman had directed to the pair of them, had voiced her concerns and what she thinks.

After he had awoken yesterday and threw a _fit_ , his Aunt and friends had sat him down. Urging him to talk to them, and that they loved him—that they were here for him. He had scoffed pawing at his football jacket thrown over the back of the couch before throwing it at Roman. _“Give that back to Coach,”_ was the only thing he had said during those hours. He did it in spite, to gain back some control over himself and his own life. Screw the scholarships, screw the team, and the games. Just fuck it all, he was done. Done.

“Those cuts on your arms tell a different story,” the woman replied, resting an elbow on the arm of her chair. “What I see is an angry young man on a self destructive path, pushing everyone who means something to him away because he's hiding something. Adam, we're all here to help you. So let us help,” she weaved her fingers together over her lap.

He uncrossed his arms and leaned forward, elbows digging into his knees. “I don't need help,” he replied back, stressing every word. He leaned back again, arms returning to their position over his chest. He didn't want their help, didn't need help to begin with. He was fine, he was just fine before. Why the fuck was people making such a fucking huge deal about all this shit? Just a couple of scratches, the stitches weren't necessary either. He's done worse than that and he healed just fine!

 

 

It was a few more days before his aunt put him back in school. Every time he heard a student call his name he ignored it, not wanting to talk to them. Not even feeling anything towards wanting social interaction. Just nothing. Blake and her friends had seen him, and in return he found her too. She lifted a hand in his direction, mouth open to say something as she took a step towards him. His gut soured, teeth grinding automatically before turning away.

Fuck 'em.

Fuck school.

Fuck this city.

Fuck this stupid life.

He was getting out of there. He had enough cash on his person to take a cab out of the city, he had enough for saved up for a shitty little motel room somewhere. It wouldn't be the first time that he had just up and left. Back in middle school he had done it a few times—it was an art form that he's perfected by now. So that's what he did, as the bell rang and the swarm of student began pushing their ways through the halls and filing into tiny classrooms Adam left the school building. His bag filled with his gym clothes, sweater and lunch hanging off one shoulder as he walked a towards the downtown core.

From there it didn't take long to flag down a cabbie, “visiting my girlfriend out of town. The 'rents aren't supposed to know,” he lied when the cabbie threw him an odd look when he told him where to go. The cabbie had chuckled winking at him as he fell for it. It was so easy by now, just running away and never going back. But he had always came back, ran away for a week or so. A few times during the summer it was longer. His aunt had thought he was at Roman's, and Adam had called and texting her everyday to keep her off his back.

But of course she caught on, stopping in to see him when he was at Roman's once to check up on him. Only for his parents, and Roman himself, to say that they haven't seen Adam for however long he was gone for. Every time he would come home his friends would yell at him, aunt shaking him (and gripping his head and holding him to her chest as she squeezed him with all her might), and neighbours scolding him for worrying everyone.

It never stopped him from going on another one, and another one... and another. His aunt had started calling them his “vacation time,” she started to get used to him fucking off for a week. But only a week, and only as long as he called her every few days so that she knew he was still alive. She was the one the suggested that he should go backpacking around Europe before going off to College.

And he was... when ever he finished this year. He had been trying to convince Roman in coming with. But that wasn't going to happen anymore. If anything he'd just go alone. He could go right now if he really wanted to. He always carried his passport, after years of just disappearing for days he always just... carried it. All his ID (health card, passport, drivers license) was always on him... just in case one didn't work and he had to have another one.

He could go buy a ticket and fuck off to... to Germany. His aunt wouldn't file a missing persons report until near the end of the second day of no contact. And he'd be out of here by then, hopefully over seas and... and just being free.

He'll be leaving a huge paper trail, but it wasn't as if honestly cared all that much about it. It'll show that he's still alive and well—its when the trail stops that people should be worried.

He handed the cabbie the cash and took off towards the nearest bank machine. He's gonna do it, he's gonna disappear. Drop off the face of the Earth for awhile and maybe come back as a better person. Maybe one that cares about all the worry that he'd caused everyone. Maybe even come back fixed. Come back happy and without that urge to make himself bleed. Maybe he could act like a proper son for his aunt... for him Mum.

 

 

“ **Adam's gone”** her mother's name at the top of the convo. Blake stared down at the phone, teeth capturing her lips and pressing down as she stared at those two words. Its been two days since she had seen Adam in the halls, where he stared at her for a moment before walking away. She should've been the one to talk to him those many days ago when this all fell apart. **“The last thing any of us heard of him was that picture that he sent,”** the next message had came in.

It was a picture of the inside of a passenger plane and message that can with it was “see you whenever. Love you.” Clair, Adam's aunt, had fallen into her mother's arms that evening. She clutched at her shoulder and wailed. Blake had sat at the top of the stairs watching the two women slowly lower themselves to the ground, she had watched them sit there for hours as Clair bawled. So unsure of what to do, and so over come with worry. Blake's mother was at a loss as well, only able to hold onto her friend and glance up at Blake with anger in her gaze.

Adam was an asshole, an uncaring asshole who couldn't think about the feelings of others—or just didn't care about their feelings. Blake was hurt, she was angry...

But more than anything, she was confused. How could he just up and leave like nothing? Wasn't he scared? Did he really hate them all that much that he had to fly away from them?

She had started sitting with Adam's friends at lunch, her friends tagged along with her. The Corner Kids Crew was missing a member, and the whole school knew the story. Or at least knew some pieces of it. The rumours where that Adam and them had a fight and he ran away. The other was that he was admitted into the suicide ward (those were the ones that had seen glimpses of the bandages under his shirts). A truth ran in both of them, and that's what stung more than anything else. The Corner Kids Crew and Team RWBY were hurting, and that's one thing that everyone knew. 


	28. Achievement Unlocked: The Yandere Girlfriend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay lets begin this with saying that I really hate things that deal with yandere or tsundere (or whatever). If I see something with it I normally run as far as I can from it. To put it simple:
> 
> I HATE THIS GENRE!!
> 
> Hate it with anime, books, fanfiction- you name it I hate it. It’s fucked… like its fucked up and I don’t need that kind of crazy labeled and people thinking that that shit is cute or whatnot. Its fucked. 
> 
> And lazy.
> 
> And I promised myself that I would never write it… and look at this anon (on Tumblr) made me do. I feel too bad if I just ignore/delete a prompt so I had it sit there until I got sick of seeing it. So I had to tweek this prompt a little… I made it more manageable and less… well, fucked up. ‘cause again, Yandere man- that shit be cray-cray. 
> 
> This is another AU setting… with a lot of characters (OC and cannon)

There was only one thing that Adam hated when he played these sorts of video games with his girlfriend, Blake. She wasn't like this in RL or any other media forms... or video games. Maybe it was the fact that there were a lot of other girls in their guild that liked to flirt with him? He honestly had no idea why these girls found his voice attractive, but who was he to ruin their fun?

Adam relaxed against his stack of pillows, stretching his long legs out on the bed. The control griped loosely in his hands as he moved his character around the field. Both Blake and he had attempted to make their characters as similar as they could to their own body type (as much as their class type would allow), making alterations for the hell of it. Like devil horns for himself and making Blake as a Neko like creature. Currently, Adam was running a few solo missions, level grinding and overall just enjoying his time before his crew had planned on signing in.

 

He cracked open a can of beer, chugging it back.

 

“What the fuck is that?” one of his crew mates sounded into his ear. Adam cursed, wincing at the sudden increase in volume. All hell was breaking loose on the screen. Adam knew that this mission was a bad idea, but the rest of them wanted to try some level 70 missions. Who was Adam to wreck their hopes and dreams?

The mess on the screen was mostly because of the two tanks on their team being at least ten levels less than him, and the monsters were rinsing through their defence to the point that they couldn't risk a moment to attack. Leaving their two healers to complain in their ears about how they couldn't even handle a couple of grunts. The two other fighter(-mix) classed characters, along with Adam, were the ones pulling the team through the dungeon, the three fighter-types were close in level ranking and health. But the ones dealing the most amount of damage were the mages just behind the fighter class, before the healers (and their one archer). Blake was a battle mage, bouncing between her short sword and magic to deal out damage one after the other.

These enemies were weak to magic (frost and water to be exact), both of which one of their mage's excelled at. And after that wave of enemies were defeated, the healers went on a healing surge before the group continued on. Adam knew that they wouldn't make it to the boss, not when their tanks couldn't take a hit.

 

Adam propped a foot up on the bed, taking another large chug out of his can (a new one) before setting it back down.

 

Their characters were standing around the spawn point, his crew mates talking over each other as they expressed their annoyance. “Never again!” one of the tanks, Yang, exclaimed. The woman was a close friend of Blake's inside and outside the game.

Lil'Red329 ran around in a circle around around the group, pausing to draw back an arrow but never letting it loose. “C'mon lets go to the tavern and see about getting some new crew members! Maybe a higher level tank,” the girl's voice chipped in. The girl behind the character was Ruby Rose, Yang's kinda younger sister (it was complicated, they never really mentioned anything other than “we're sisters” and that's it).

Adam rubbed a hand over his face, “I can always call and see about getting Junior to join,” he suggested taking another drink from his can. Yeah, he's gonna need to go get more.

Yang's character turned to his as she spoke, “he won't answer. He said something about his sister's birthday being today.” Yang was also Junior's girlfriend, made sense that she'd remember what he was up to.

Their frost mage, a girl named Weiss (also a friend of Blake's) spoke up, “what about Roman or Cinder?”

“On a date,” Adam replied. He had helped the orange haired man plan the night out weeks in advance, there was no way that he'd call his buddy away from his _lady love_ any time soon (and not for a game). “No one's allowed to bother them on it,” he added just in case mostly directed at Sun their last fighter.

“Jaune's online,” Ruby's chipper voice broke through the brief silence, “we can always go recruit his crew for this level—Pyrrha is a high level, I think. And both Ren and Nora are mid-long range fighters. Or if we need a tank, why don't we ask Derek to come on? Wait, why isn't he on in the first place?”

Derek was their highest level tank, having met Adam in the game and played with him throughout most of his time in the game. “He's working tonight, and the twins are out of town for the next few days. Something about them going to visit the parents to see about getting some more money to help pay for rent this month,” Adam responded, following his crew as they made their way into town. “Tavern?” he asked walking into the direction of the town's tavern.

Tavern's were a place for people to hang out and just dick around. It was one of the main spots that someone could pick up new crew-mates as they made their characters drink into a drunken spur. Which actually does effect game play, much to a lot of people's shock at first. Its become a sort of test to the players more confidant in their abilities to go into battle with a drunken character. Also: achievements. There were like ten for a drunken fight the last time Adam checked (he had... six? Yeah, six unlocked).

Speaking of achievements. There was even a relationship status achievement. It was weird as shit. The newest update to the game (that came out a week ago, yesterday) added a new set of achievements to go along with the change in status. It was turning into a stupid Facebook.

And yet he still went out and got the achievement for ' **Gettin' Jiggy—** _ **in a relationship**_ '. He was tempted just to change the status to single just to see if he'd get one for breaking up with someone. But he wouldn't do that to Blake, she was all proud of the achievement and everything. Didn't wanna crush that lil' heart. Plus, there was a set of achievements that he still needed to unlock.

Walking into the tavern and buying a few drinks—and RL Adam was enjoying a few as well—Adam's character took an open seat near the middle of the floor. His crew spread out to do their own things; get drinks, talk to possible crew candidates, or whatever else they could do.

One female character sat down beside his character and sent a private chat to him. He began talking to her, in between her replies he opened their gamer profile. Around his crew's level (higher than their current tanks, which is something that he was looking for) and a mage. Wasn't exactly what he was looking for, but you could never go wrong with more attack power. He added her to their crew for the day, might as well test out this mage and hope that someone else grabbed some tanks.

“Hey,” the character's voice came through his headpiece, another gamer girl. Cool, can't go wrong with more girls amongst their ranks.

“Hey,” Adam replied to the new crew member, “know any good tanks?” Might as well try.

The girl laughed, “no, was hoping that your crew was a little more put together.”

Adam cracked his knuckles as he lounged further back in his cushion pile, “our two main tanks have prior arrangements today so we're left with our newbies.” He could hardly call them new, they're both level 61.

“I have a life outside of this game!” Mercury, their male tank, growled out. “You know the hours I work, you're lucky I'm even on tonight!”

One of the healers, the more quiet (and female) one pipped up, “hey now. He's only teasing, Merc, don't need to get defensive darling.” Velvet was always the piece maker. If they didn't need to kill it, she'd ask them to just leave it. Often much to late for them to do anything about it, but still she tried.

“Yeah, it's all just fun and games!” Penny, the other fighter, supplied. Adam could see her character bouncing around after Ruby's as the archer talked (must be) to someone's character.

“Wow there's a lot of girls in this crew,” the new comer voiced.

“We all know each other in RL, so it kinda happened that we all just smooshed together to form a team. Normally there's a few more people but they all have _dates_ and _prior arrangements_. Yuck, real life stuff. Gross responsibilities!” Sun laughed at his own humor.

“Yeah, yeah. So totally funny,” Neal, their other healer, supplied. You could hear the sarcasm dripping from his voice, “I got us two tanks. Just except them and lets take another shot at that stupid dungeon.”

  
  


Adam cracked open another can, taking the first sip.

  
  


The mission was going nicely, Yang was currently in a horrible pun competition with their new tanks. Both of the guys were getting creamed by Yang's overall goofy puns and just... ugh, it was horrible. The fights were progressively taking longer, and the damage being taken would be crippling if not for the extra support. “Shit,” Adam cursed out when a huge chunk of his character's health was taken out.

A green halo of light encircled his character, “you're welcome,” the new girl said.

Adam shook his head fondly, “thanks,” he couldn't help but smile. The new girl, HardNOTLiFE291, gave him a bunch of potions after the battle, for just in case purposes. “So what's with the Annie themed name? Your name Annie?”

The girl laughed, “its not exactly creative, but yeah, name's Annie. You?”

“Adam,” he replied, sparing a quick glance at the text box to see if Blake or anyone decided to make a comment. Nothing. Normally Blake had her mic plugged in, but her brother had sat on it yesterday and snapping the mic part of the headphones off. So she was left with doing everything the old fashioned way.

“You sound cute,” Annie laughed, her character blasting an enemy with lightning.

“Oh god, another one,” Mercury cut in with a groan.

“What?” Annie asked. On screen the enemies stopped appearing so the group moved into the next room, there was nothing in there monster related but there was some loot. The group opened the chests, collecting their spoils before pressing forward.

“He's attractive, to answer your question. But he's voice has a habit of bringing all the ladies in, don't 'cha agree Blake?” Yang's laughter rang out. She was teasing her.

“ **Don't start this Yang,”** her text response read.

“When are you getting a new headset?” Sun asked Blake; he always hated reading the messages on the side of the screen. Thought it was useless when they could just be talking instead; the blond normally always had the chat box hidden.

“ **Adam and I are getting one tomorrow.”**

“You're gonna have to wait until after class, if I'm not hungover,” Adam took another large gulp from his drink before setting it back down on the nightstand. “Which shouldn't be a problem, drinking this stuff too slow for anything to stick,” okay so he was lying. He was sucking these things back like nothing.

“ **Why are you drinking when you know that you have an early class tomorrow?”**

“Because I can?” Adam smirked. The battle on screen took a turn for the worst, and they took a dive into the fray. Light exploded on the screen from the spells that the team mages were casting, the green spells the the healers were letting loose encircling the tanks as they took most of the damage. Suddenly the monsters lost interest in the tanks and targeted the fighters as they ducked in close to them. “Son of a bitch,” he cursed when three monster's attacks hit his character.

“I've got you,” Annie spoke she cast a potion on his character. What came next was something that he should've seen before hand—a few of Blake's spells ended up hitting Annie's character. The mage hit the ground K.O'd.

“ **Shit. Sorry was aiming the the enemy behind you”**

Adam narrowed his eyes at the screen when Annie didn't reply. “I got an achievement from that,” Annie spoke suddenly, shocked at the message.

“Really Blake? Again? You gotta stop that,” Adam told his girlfriend, “there's no reason to be jealous.” Blake's character killed him.

1 new achievement.

Attack of the Yandere.

Adam started laughing almost hysterically, “oh my fucking god! Attack of the Yandere!” he laughed curling in on himself. It was fucked up—oh god was it ever fucked up. He wasn't sure if he should curl under his bed and cry or run... run very far far away.

“Oh my god!” Yang howled, “oh god its so fitting! This game makes Blake into a fucking creep!”

“ **Shut up, it was a mistake. I don't want this dumb achievement!”**

“You got one too!” Yang continued to howl, “oh god, what is it?”

“ **Yandere; for killing at least one player who has helped your significant other and then your other in a fit of jealousy. Great job, you need some serious help (please don't do this in RL).”**

“ **Guys, I'm not a yandere. Please make it go away T^T”**

The rest of the crew started laughing, Adam joining them. Yeah, this game made Blake a little crazy, but in real life his girlfriend was nothing like that. At least, he really hoped she wasn't. The man paused and eyed his beer; he might need to drown this night out of his memory.


	29. Dance with Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The spawn of 3AM writing and listening to older songs that I used to dance with my cat around the living room with when I was like... 10 or something stupid like that. (I honestly have no idea how old I was, just that I was younger than 16)
> 
> This chapter is currently only on AO3. So enjoy guys!

She had laughed handing over the ear pud for him to take, and he did, stuffing the thing in his ear and leaning back to enjoying whatever she would put on. The song was familiar as the melody washed over him, drowning his senses in it as he shut his eyes to the world. He had begun to hum it, the song titled at the tip of his tongue. He had opened his eyes and spared a glance at the girl at his side, “can I have this dance?” he asked then.

She opened her eyes at that laughing when she agreed.

She had wrapped an arm around his neck loosely, the other hand gripping at the leather jacket. One of his hands settled over her waist while the other held the hand gripping at his coat. She pressed herself against him as they began to sway gently. Her dark hair tickling his nose when he bent to rest his head against it. “Hey Adam,” she whispered as the music changed to another slower song (another one that he had known year before this).

The eighteen year old closed his eyes again; the song, the company, his girlfriend in his arm, their little hide-y hole at school... it was all just putting him to ease. He couldn't help but kiss her forehead. He let a questioning hum answer her. Followed by another kiss against her hairline.

“After you graduate, you'll still come back and visit me right?” she had voiced her fears. Her boyfriend was graduating this year, going off to a school about six hours (if lucky) away from her while she was stuck here for another year.

He leaned away from her at first to get a proper look at her, when she buried her head further into his collar he had to forcibly remove themselves from each other. She looked away from him stubbornly, “Blake, kitten.” She had looked at him when he said her name, “whenever I can you know I'll come visit you.” He brushed her hair away from her face.

She shrugged, “I know but its just... sometimes I can't help put think you're gonna find a prettier girl off at that University of yours. All older and mature,” she rolled her eyes. She knew that she was sounding stupid, but sometimes she couldn't help those thoughts from hitting to close to home. Normally late at night with her phone open and hovering over his name even though they had just gotten off the phone an hour before.

Adam shook his head thumb caressing over her cheek, “I'd never have anyone better than you, you're the perfect girl for me. And that's that,” he pursed his lips and gave her a lighthearted shrug of his shoulder. “Plus, who's to say that you won't find some guy younger than me when I'm away at school? You're gonna have to start beating them all away for me—or Yang will,” he teased wrapping an arm around her head and hugging her to his chest.

She laughed slapping a hand to her chest, “you're such a dumbass! We were having a serious moment,” she exclaimed slapping him again.

“Yeah, well, I was dancing with you before that!” he shot back at her.


	30. Sir Lamb Chop II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mention with Blake’s mother was actually something that someone had told me about. The person who told me that little timbit of information had her last child late in her thirty’s (like real late thirty's) and she’s known to have lied to me often. So take it with some caution.

His Aunt had taken Marc for the week. It was that time again. Adam and Blake had both booked work off (and tripled checked that they had it off). Blake's Heat was scheduled to hit in full force, the pills that the doctor had prescribed her after having Marcus had run out.

Nearly nine months without a Heat.

With her head tucked under his chin and their arms wrapped around each other, they took the time to relax—to rest. Blake's breathing was even, heavy, as she caught up on her sleep. Being parents were tiring, no one could blame them for wanting to sleep when the Marc was at the grandparent(s). Adam couldn't help but smile at the feeling of his mate's curves pressing against him, her naked flesh felt smooth compared to his.

He pressed his lips against her forehead and kept them there; he could feel her temperature rise against his skin—even before the scent hit him. She sighed heavily in his arms, opening her eyes with a large yawn. “You feel it too?” she slurred as she stretched again this time going as far as she could in his arms. She wrapped at arm around his shoulders, leaning to to press a kiss to his neck then jaw.

He huffed rolling them over so he could hover of her, “what do you think?” he replied pressing a forceful kiss against her lips. She tangled a hand through his two toned hair and pulled at the roots.

She opened her legs without any form of prompting, “you can have your fun later,” she arched up into the man. Her man—her mate. She wanted to still feel like herself when they had sex again, not some wonton whore who could only arch up into him and plead for more and more. She'd most likely be doing that later if the Heat really became too much.

His fingers tickled her stomach now resembling what it had looked like before her pregnancy after many months and hours slaving over work out gear and early morning jog. His hands wondered south bound to her hips then her heat. She sucked in a breath at the touch and hissed between teeth when his fingers entered her. It didn't hurt—not even remotely close—her body was ready for this, it was just since having a child and not having nearly as much sex as they used to she had hoped that her... lady bits weren't lacking.

That wasn't the right word... but after the stories that her mother had told her about her own experiences after birthing Blake's brother and how she felt like her vagina was ruined. Blake had though that unlikely, but still one of those horrible things that always just stays with you in the back of your mind whispering _**what if**_.

He nipped at her jaw when she tossed her head back moaning need in her throat. It's been far to long since they had last done this; Blake's nails dug into his back to both pull him closer and away. “No,” she breathed out, “I want you inside me. You can play with me later,” she arched her face away from him as he leaned in for a kiss.

Adam huffed, “so demanding,” he let out a breathless laugh as he removed his fingers from her. He leaned over to his side of the bed pulling out a condom wrapper from the side table. “Do you want to do the honours?” he waggled his eyebrows at her.

She rolled her eyes in response but let out a laugh as she caught the wrapper, “you're such an idiot,” she shook her head. She tore open the package and placed the rubber over the tip of his dick, pinching the little air pocket in the condom before rolling it down to the base of Adam's penis. She raised a brow, “there all dressed up,” she snickered.

He tackled her back down to the bed, “and you're calling me an idiot?” he laughed before kissing her lips. She wrapped her legs around his lower back and hip, throwing her head back in a loud moan when he entered her in one movement. He tucked both arms under her body, holding her to him as he began to thrust. The bed rocking, thumping loudly against the wall with each movement.

The had both let out a little laugh at that, “lets hope the neighbours aren't home,” Blake panted.

He licked up the shell of her human ear, “lets give them a show if they are though,” and Blake screamed out in ecstasy. Eyes rolling back, and back arching of the bed. They had both came far too soon—but it was only the beginning.

There was still a full Heat to complete.

\--

It was later when they both woken from a small nap and the Heat was still only a dull ache that they had decided to leave the room to eat. Adam had walked by the crib that Marc would normally be sleeping in by now. In his son's place was Sir Lamb Chop, staring at the bed with plastic eyes.

And Adam narrowed his eyes at the stuffed toy, glancing from it to the bed and then back at it. He shuttered, turning the stuffed toy until it faced the wall, “creepy little thing,” Adam muttered before leaving the room.  


	31. Sir Lamb Chop III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the point of view of a small child.

Evaline was crying again. Marcus glared at his sister with all his might, “no.” The child whispered before turning back to the television. Shrek's green face taking up most of the screen. Marc though his sister was annoying; constantly crying and fussing. Mommy spent most of her time with the baby and Daddy had to work. Marc really wished that his Daddy would come home soon.

Daddy paid attention to him. He called him, “little man” and would carry him around. Mommy tried to have cuddle time with him, but Eva wouldn't stop crying.

He didn't really like his sister anymore.

Sir Lamp Chop didn't like her either, girls were weird. And loud. But Auntie Yang wasn't. Yes, she was loud but she was nice—Auntie yang would twirl him around and they'd pretend to be helicopters. Sir Lamp Chop liked her too. Sir Lamb Chop liked riding on her head and seeing everything. The stuffy would tell him that he could see the ocean.

Marc didn't believe him; he was just a silly sheep after all.

Mama and Eva fell asleep after KD and Marc pouts at them. Mama had Eva snuggled up in her arms—he wanted some snuggle too.

Daddy came home during the third time watching Shrek (after KD time of course). His eyes tired and shirt untucked and unbuttoned. “Hey there little man, did your sister cause Mummy some trouble today?”

Marc brow creased. Daddy was nice, Daddy came and saw him first. “I don't like her,” Marcus frowned in reply. He held Sir Lamb Chop closer to him when his Daddy's eyes hardened.

His Daddy sat down in front of him, “who don't you like?” he asked; he didn't sound mad, or even upset. But Marcus still shrunk in on himself; Daddy's eyebrows did though. They looked like how they did when he was mad or upset. Marc didn't like it when Daddy's eyebrows were mad, that meant that Daddy was mad and if Daddy was mad then Daddy didn't love him anymore. Right?

His lip began to tremble, “Mommy doesn't love me!” his eyes began to water. “Mommy loves Eva but not me,” Marc cried, big ol' crocodile tears pouring out of his eyes and down his chubby cheeks. He sniffled when snot felt like it was tickling out his nose. “You don't love me either!” he wailed clinging to Sir Lamb Chop.

Daddy's eyebrows were no longer man, and Daddy's eyes looked sad. He wrapped his arms around Marc, gathering the boy in to his lap. “No we don't honey, of course we don't hate you. We love you so-so much. Your Mommy and I will never stop loving you,” Daddy whispered into his hair. His lips kissing Marc's forehead.

Daddy, Sir Lamb Chop and Marc clung to each other throughout the rest of the movie. Daddy kept whispering things to him, saying how Mommy and Daddy loved him and Eva loved him too even though she was just a baby who cried a lot.

Marc still didn't like her, but right now when she was quiet and sleeping... she was OK.

Kinda...

For a baby.  


	32. Sir Lamb Chop IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still written in Marc's POV

Marc thought that he was done being a sibling, one was enough. He was five and Eva was two (almost three she would always yell) when his little brother was born and... okay, Marc liked Todd. He was way better than Evaline. When Mommy had told him and Evaline that they would get a new brother or sister Evaline had looked up at their mother in awe. But she had made them promise not to tell their father, it was a surprise.

And boy was it ever a surprise for his Daddy.

He had came home like he did every day, greeting both his children and mate. Marc had just learned that word. Mate was like they were married but not—their minds and bodies thought they were married but they didn't have any shinny rings on. But anyways, Daddy had went upstairs to change and Eva couldn't stop giggling as she waited at the bottom of the stairs. Mommy had to pick her up and place her on the couch so Dad wouldn't run her over when he would come barrelling (Mommy said it was another word for running) down stairs.

And that's what Daddy did after a couple of crashes upstairs. When he came, nearly tripping, down the stairs Mom had just smiled and said, “Surprise!” And Eva started jumping and screaming and hugging everyone. Much to Marc's annoyance.

From there life feel back into normal, Dad still went to work, Marc went to school, Mommy and Eva stayed at home where Mommy would write her stories and Eva did who knows what. Marc had to start hiding Sir Lamb Chop after one day after school he had came home and the stuffy was laying on the floor... and wait for it... having a tea party.

Yuck!

Marc had hoped that he would get a brother this time around and that he wouldn't cry as much as Evaline did when she was younger. And as time went on the baby matured in his Mother's tummy. She had taken both Eva and him with her to get an _ultrasound_ or whatever it was something-sound, but it showed the baby! Marcus looked at the picture in awe, glancing up at his Mother before looking back to the picture.

When they had arrived home Marc grabbed the picture and ran up to his room with it—without Eva or Mommy knowing. He run over to Sir Lamb Chop and showed him the picture, “this is going to be my baby brother!” the child exclaimed. The lamb stared back at him, “I know its going to be a boy, don't say that Sir Lamb Chop! Girls smell, and my baby brother won't!” He had frowned at the lamb, breaking out into a grin when the lamb didn't reply.

The boy had then began to climb onto his bed and tape the picture right above his bed so that he would remember that this is what his baby brother looked like in Mommy's tummy. Both his Mum and Dad didn't remove the picture, only Eva had tried. And both Mommy and Daddy got really mad that he kicked her in the head—he said he was sorry! And she tried to take his baby brother from him!

Mommy had said that she was going to leave it a surprise on what _gender_ it was. But after Marc kept asking about his baby brother she had to find out for herself (and her son's).

IT WAS A BOY!

Marc had jumped around on every couch cushion and bed in the house when Mommy told him. “A boy, a boy, a boy!” he yelled excitedly at Sir Lamb Chop and the lamb clapped with his own excitement. From there things flew by even quicker. Marc and Eva helped Dad put together the crib, Eva and Mommy went out and bought things that a baby would need early so they wouldn't have to worry when he's here. His brother would be wearing the clothes that they stored away after Marc and Eva were a baby. Granny Holly had came by with some toys for both Marc and Eva (and a few things for the baby as well).

Granny Holly was actually Daddy's Aunt, but Daddy called her Mom all the time.

And after Granny Holly came Grandma and Grandpa (Mama's parents), and Uncle Francis with little gifts for the baby that made Mama's tummy all big. And all Marc's Aunts and Uncles and their kids—they weren't really his aunt and uncles, but it made things easier to just call them that. Mama said this was a _baby shower_ , but there was no baby to shower... and Marc didn't even shower yet so he doesn't think the baby would like showering either. Aunite Yang had him sitting in her lap the whole time, she told him about her job as a firefighter and the silly things that Uncle Junior did and said. Snow, had run over and started tugging on Yang's sleeves demanding that she wanted to hear the story too. Marc didn't like her, she was too bossy, the other girl, Hera wasn't too bad.

But Marc's best friend, Julius, wasn't here just yet. Both his Mum and Dad were still at work, and he was at daycare still. Both Daddy and Mommy said that Uncle Roman and Auntie Cinder were still coming over (late) and that he shouldn't worry.

So he didn't.

It was just annoying that there were so many icky girls here. They wouldn't stop poking him and talking with him—he just wanted them to leave him alone!

It was nearly thirty minutes after the _baby shower_ had started that Julius and his parents showed up. “Another kid, Adam! We're gonna have to think about you getting fixed,” Uncle Roman laughed loudly, slapping Marc's Dad on the back. Marc's Daddy only laughed at him.  


	33. Collision prt. 5

It was shocking how just one hallway kiss could change so many things. And also, not all that much change happened. Take today for example:

Monday:

-Blake wakes up at 7:15AM; swipes at her phone once without even opening her eyes.

-At 7:20AM the alarm goes off; Blake swipes at her phone again without opening her eyes. By this time Yang has returned to the dorm room with a towel around her head. Sometimes she shows up a little earlier from her shower, and if that's the case then she laughs at the scene.

-At 7:30AM Blake leaves the covers with her third and final alarm blaring.

-She doesn't take a shower Monday mornings, she took one Sunday night. So she pads over to her dresser and changes into a skirt and button up purple blouse and black vest. She may or may not have stumbled while rolling up her pantyhose (read: she tripped four times). After that she applies makeup (foundation, powder, eyeshadow, eyeliner, lipstick, mascara. Exactly in that order), making faces at herself all the while. She finishes at 8AM.

-Both Yang and Blake leave the room at 8:10AM after stepping into their shoes of choice for today (both went with heels)

-8:20AM they grab a bagel and a coffee and head to their lecture

-8:30AM the pair take their seats in the lecture hall and either begin or finish their meal.

-8:36AM the professor walks in, late as always, and begins the lecture after another minute (or two) or set up

-10:35AM lecture lets out and the two girls leave the room together

Now this is where the routine deviates. For the past two months Blake would go back to the dorm room until 1:30PM. She had a class at 1:45 in the middle of campus and the tunnels around that area tended to get a little confusing. But after that date with Adam, well...

Yang waved Blake off, checking her phone as she rounded the corner. “Hey,” Blake smiled up at the man leaning against the wall directly in front of the door she just came out of. Adam leaned forward, meeting her halfway. Blake couldn't help but grin at the motion, their lips sealing together in a quick peck. “You didn't have to wait for me,” she said this every Monday as their fingers weaved together and he took her books from her.

Adam only just shrugs at this now; he does it because he wants to and not because he has to. She knew this only after hearing it for the past few weeks each and every time she'd meet up with the man. He would roll his eyes as he hugged her against his chest, as if the question insulted him.

“Did you eat?” he says instead and Blake nods in reply. A yawn escapes his mouth, pulling it wide and Blake could see the ball of his tongue piercing glint in the light.

“Did you?” Adam only blinks, it seems that he hadn’t had enough sleep or coffee this morning. But he did say that he had two ten page essays due this week, one of which wasn't yet done even though it was due Tuesday (at exactly 4:40PM). “Adam, did you eat?” she repeated as they stepped into the cooling air. Fall was nearing its end and making way for winter.

She'd have her first set of exams soon, she had lucked out and didn't have any midterms to write. She counted her lucky stars on that gift every day during the time that Adam and Yang were studying. She watched him sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose far to many times for that to be natural. And Yang, well the blonde had tossed books and papers around at midnight the day before one of her exams (Blake couldn't remember what it was exactly at this very moment).

“I'll grab something to eat before my class,” he finally replied. There were bags under his eyes, she noted as she tighten her hold on his hand. He yawned again and that was it.

“We're going back to the dorm and you're going to bed,” she told him sternly, stopping just in front of him so she could glare at him properly. He only sighed, allowing her to drag him across campus and into the dorm building then into the elevator to the seventh floor and finally into her room where he went willingly into her bed.

She only cracked a smile as she curled up into the too tiny bed for two adults. Her arms holding him against her chest, fingers weaving through his hair. Her nails scratched up from the back of his head to the crowd, hair ruffling up with each movement.

Adam snorted out what sounded like a laugh, his lips moving against her neck. Blake scoffed in return, not picking up what he was saying. “Just close your eyes and go to sleep,” she whispered, kissing the man's fluffed up hair as she continued on with her petting. His arms tightened their hold on her as he settled, finally, breath tickling her throat as his breathing finally began to even out.

She expected him to hold out longer than that.

But if this is what two days with about three hours of sleep gets you then... well, its only natural. Blake kissed his hair, and shut her eyes. She was up early, alright, and she had some serious time to kill. It wasn't like this wasn't what she'd be doing on a regular Monday at this time!

...Just with less company.

His phone was vibrating in his pocket; Blake grumbled something to her bed partner and he grunted in reply. He started to move, pinching against parts of her that made her hiss between clenched teeth. He stopped moving, pawing at the phone blindly and staring at the device with eyes unfocused. “I have to go to class,” his voice cracked and thick with exhaustion.

“M'kay,” Blake yawned, body stretching and taking up the bed as he left. “Are you up for dinner, or are you going straight to bed after this?” She figured that he wouldn't eat after class, but didn't want to actually go forth and make plans without making sure.

“Bed,” his mouth pulled wide in a large yawn and Blake wouldn't be surprised if it was painful as well. “Fuck food, I'll eat tomorrow,” she rolled her eyes at his response, before pulling him down for one more peck. “See you tomorrow, Bae,” his lips brushed against her's as he spoke. She nodded, pushing his face away with a pout.

She should really leave too.

The door clicked shut behind him and he could hear him walk down the hall way in those heavy boots of his; he was always so loud when he was tired. Well, not talking wise, but anything dealing with the rest of his body was. He walked loud, yawned loud, ate/drank loud, got dressed loud... everything about him was loud, and the lack of sleep only seemed to empathize that fact.

Everything but that damn voice of his.

She slowly pulled herself out of bed ten minutes after he left, rolling her shoulders before standing. She only had this last class and then she could do whatever the hell she wanted. Well, within reason seeing that Adam was cutting her off for today. She giggled to herself; things weren't changing too much after all.

Her morning routine was still the same, and so was her classes. Yang was still a constant annoyance (the good kid), still prying into Blake's blossoming relationship with the older student. And she still made an idiot out of herself around Adam. Slightly lessened but only due to the fact that she saw him daily and she could only make an ass out of herself so many times.

She was hopping that that would change soon enough—she's had enough of making a twit out of herself, thanks.

  
  


 


	34. The Ball

They felt horrible doing it, but it had to be done. **It had to be done**. And yes, it may have thrown a bunch of those friend rules out the window—like the ones that said, _“Thou shall not snoop through your friend's COM device”_ and _“Thou shall not use said COM device to contact random numbers that belong to possible boys.”_ But it has a life or death situation!

Well, kind of a life or death situation.

Okay, maybe not really a life or death situation, but Yang could make it. She could totally make it one, just watch!

Weiss was watching the door; Blake had just left to take a late night shower and left her COM device open for the peaking. And Yang being the excellent friend that she was (and is) knew just what to punch in to open said device. Ruby was hunched over in her bed, gesturing wildly in a _hurry up_ fashion. Yes, Yang was hurrying as fast as she could, god damn it!

Flicking through a limited list of contacts, violet eyes scanning for names that she wasn't familiar with. Yang made an almost helpless whine in the back of her throat before shrugging and moving onto the call list. And boy does Blake's call list ever go back far. A lot to and from one contact specifically more than even Team RWBY's combined... but then again, those were from a time before they were even at Beacon.

“Adam?” Yang finally looked up from the device to Ruby who pouted out a lip and shrugged, then to Weiss who simply nodded. Well, Adam it was then. Pressing the contact a little harsher than she should've, Yang quickly pressed the call button.

“Speaker, put it on speaker!” Ruby stage whispered from above. Her bed shifting and rocking as she moved closer on the swinging bed of _death_. Yang pressed the speaker button just as a man's voice answered the call.

“ _ **Brothers of the White Fang**_ ,” the males voice mocking on the other end. Tone pinched and pushed through clenched teeth, “God damn it Blake!” That first line sounded familiar, or at least like something Blake would've said. She was a former member of that organization after all.

Weiss turned towards the girls on the bed, eyes widening. Maybe this was a mistake—but if she was quick, maybe Yang could turn this all around and fix this up-coming train wreck waiting to happen. “Umm,” she ground her teeth together. Okay, so she didn't want to do that! Think Yang, think! “Soo, this isn't Blake,” Weiss pointed to the device in the blonde's hand and flicked her wrist, eyebrows climbing further upwards.

There was a series of slamming (was that something shattering?) on the other end of the call, a muffled voice followed by too much movement. With a final slam, silence smothered the room before the man's voice finally cut in, “what's going on?” And now Yang felt like _maybe_ this wasn't right for her to do—maybe she should've gone with Plan A after all.

But _noooooo_ , stupid Plan B with **find Blake a date she wouldn't turn down** just spoke to her _hopeless romantic_ heart of hers. Stupid, **stupid**! “Well, honestly,” Ruby made harsh cut throat motions. Cut and run; and boy was there nothing more than Yang wanted to do right now than to cut and run... but she couldn't. “There's this dance tomorrow and Blake's running herself into the ground and we're all worried about her—girl needs a bit of down time—” so she was rambling. The quicker she got this out the quicker she could hang up on him, right? Right. “So, _stupid me_ ,” she pulled at the collar of her pyjama shirt, “thought well maybe if someone that she really cares about asked her to go... then, well, _maybe_ she'd take a breather and take a load off.”

She was met with silence, and Oh Boy, she should just hang up now—like... NOW!

“Well, sorry to be a _bother_ ,” the last syllable drawn out further than necessary and she quickly ended the call.

“Smooth,” the Schnee heiress drawled finally closing the door now that her job was done.

Well, at least Yang could always rely on Plan A—the very plan that she skipped in the first place... so maybe it could be called Plan B instead. Yeah, lets just go with that and forget that this ever happened.

 

\----

\--

-

He huffed, turning away from the huntress-in-training taking the blond's arm as they smiled shyly at each other. Tucking the flower into his inside jacket pocket, the Faunus shook his head to himself. A corner of his lips tugging ever the slightest upwards as he left the campus grounds, passing two familiar and noteworthy people on his way out.

He didn't dawn on his mask, not yet—too close. Far too close to Beacon. He'll return here soon enough, it was only a matter of time.

In the end it wouldn't matter, this dance meant nothing to him—it held no meanings, no promises to keep. The two of them have always been dancing this little dance of theirs, and he'd always be her partner for it. At the moment it was a change up, partners switching and rotating. Their eyes leaving each other but always knowing that they'd see each other soon enough—a few more verses, just a few more steps.

This tale of theirs was timeless—how many times had he heard that stupid story growing up? _Beauty and the Beast_ , right? It was her favourite as a child, even now he's willing to bet that she still holds it dear. Even with all its faults and questionable characters...

He dawned on the mask as he left the town, to the depths of the dark in which he belonged. For he was the Beast, wasn't he? Not even a Princely one at that. He brushed a hand through his hair, minding the horns, in an attempt to style his hair into something... a little more fitting. Less posh, more wisps.

He'd see her again, he couldn't say when but he'd see her again.

She's the Beauty after all.


	35. letters 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some canon compliant not happy not fluffy stuff 'cause I'm so happy~~

The letters stopped.

Not because of her—this was all his doing. He wasn’t about to change his ways before the end goal was even within sight. The thing that was between the two of them was in the past, it didn’t mean _anything_. Or, at least that’s what he explained to his superior and the underlings that stuck their noses out a little too far.

The ones that’ve been with him since the time with Blake knew not to bring it up. Or if they did, they brought her name up in passing. A warning.

 ** _Do me a solid,_** his own voice echoed in his head when a man only known as Lieutenant (Adam knew better though, he knew his name) had sent him a warning.

‘ _Blake was active again in the underground and digging into things that she shouldn’t have_.’

They were working with humans, and as much as Adam hated the idea and Roman, the payout was a hell of a lot better than toughing out a while longer with Roman bossing around Lieutenant’s men. The boss knew better than to send Adam anywhere near that orange haired shit. He didn’t play nice with arrogant pricks.

Adam kept going back to the man’s message, over and over again. It was only a matter of time till the boss figured out what happened—that Blake was very much _not taken care of_. But it wouldn’t matter, in a week the train was scheduled to move and the plan would be set in motion. Until then, Adam had time to tie up loose ends and rein his division in.

Tossing his mask to the cushions to his left, Adam pinched the bridge of his nose. A pressure was building right behind his eyes, pushing at the walls of his skull and pulling at that little kind spot still left in his heart.

He should make use of this time. He should listen to that little voice clawing from the depths of his mind. It the deepest caverns where he hid any sense of humanity, peace and hope.

There was a pen and pad sitting right there within reach, he could simply pluck it from the table and scrawl out a quick little line. Just one. Doesn’t even need to have his name on it.

Brushing his hair back, Adam plucked the pen from the pad and scrawled a quick and simple line.

**B.**

**Stay out of business that doesn’t concern you.**

The urge to write please was strong—so very strong. He had to grit his teeth to keep from adding that one little word. This was a warning, a threat even, and it needed to be taking seriously. He wasn’t about to keep himself out of these matters anymore.

If he had to tear Blake down for his goal...

... then so be it. 


	36. Sir Lamb Chop V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marc is 10 when he has his quote 'n quote "First Kiss". And while he believes first kisses never really stop happening, it was still his first kiss with this person and boy, why was his stomach all wonky?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was going to have them sitting around the dinner table and Adam walking in and just over all silliness... but really, this was meant to focus on that point and well... I have papers to write and if I keep these short enough I can pop these things out like nothing!  
> I already know what I'm going to do with part VI! Haha!
> 
> Quick Age count!!!   
> Marc: 10  
> Evaline: 7  
> Todd: 5  
> Natasha: 2

Marc kept repeating himself all the time—he was done being a sibling. He was done. Mom and Dad should’ve stopped with Todd. The odds were in their favour, and that’s what mattered... but now, now it wasn’t! Natasha was two and while Marc liked her and everything, it still made the whole boys vs girls thing they had going in the house balanced again.

A balanced house **sucked**.

Although... Nat did stick with Marc in whatever he would choose. So he’d give his sister that much. Honorary team boys’ representative! He liked the sound of that title. Eva and Mum though, now those two were a lost cause.

“Mom,” Marc called out from the living room. His mother poked her head out of the kitchen doorway, her cat ears perking up. She used to force her ears up like that when they were younger. It would always make them laugh. He smiled at her non-the-less, “is Julius still coming over?”

Natasha was creeping towards him on all fours like the cat she believed herself to be. Well, she and Todd did have Mom’s ears so they were more cat than Marc and Eva. She had to keep stopping to tuck her auburn hair behind her human ear—Marc fought of the urge to roll his eyes at her.

“Well, unless his Mom or Dad said otherwise I think he’s still going to be coming.”

Marc’s worry didn’t lessen; Dad and Roman weren’t on speaking terms. He heard Mom and he having a _stern_ conversation on how Julius’ parents were providing a poisonous environment and that they worried that Julius would pick up his parent’s prejudice views.

Marc did start picking up how Roman talked to his Dad, and he wasn’t actually comfortable with it. Mom had told him to sock anyone who talked down at him for being a Faunus, but Dad wasn’t doing the same to Roman when he got really bad.

Marc stopped calling Roman his uncle after turning seven and learning all about bullies and that ‘you shouldn’t put up with bullies’. He didn’t know how Dad could do it sometimes, but if it meant that there was more of a chance that he could hang out with Julius then... well, he didn’t want to say that it was a good thing. But it was, for him at least.

Roman never said anything ‘snippy’ towards Mom, or his siblings, or even Marc. Just Dad. And Dad would always say something equally as bad back to him so... ugh, Marc wasn’t all that sure.

Nat’s tiny little hand slapped his cheek, “Ow!” Marc snarled grabbing her little wrist and holding it. “That hurt!” he barred his teeth at the two year old and she whined pulling at her trapped limb with watery eyes. “You don’t hit,” he frowned smothering his anger as best as he could.

There came a knock at the door that his mother promptly took to getting while Marc scolded his sister.

“Marc, le’go” her little two year old voice whined as she gave her arm another little yank. “Sowrry, ‘m sowrry,” she whined out again. Marc nodded lifting her up and setting her on the couch where she quickly slid off and went back to sneaking around the living room like a cat.

“What was that all about?” Julius’ voice drew his attention from his hyperactive sister to his best friend in the opening of the living room. Marc waved the comment off, “so are we going to your room or...?” Marc nodded, passing the orange haired boy in the hall and racing up the stairs.

He heard Julius’ loud thumps behind him, “I’ll call you down when supper’s ready!” Mum called up to them just before Marc could slam his door.

“Okay Mom!” he called back before closing the door. He whipped around to grin at his best friend, Julius was already settled up in his mountain of pillows with Sir Lamb Chop in his lap. He was flicking the sheep’s stick-like arms up and down with a concentrated look on his face.

“What’s up?” Marc flopped down onto the bed and adjusting until he could look up at his best friend’s face from the orange haired boy’s lap.

Julius brushed Marc’s hair back so it could curl around his growing horns, “do you like any girls?” He was now staring at the logo on Marc’s shirt.

“Not really, no. I mean, sometimes they’re pretty but most of the time it’s just like ‘ _ughh_ ’ and that’s it.” Marc shrugged watching Julius’ expression to see if it changed at all. It only seemed to grow more closed off and confused. “What about you?”

That seemed to wake the boy out of his spell. Julius pursed his lips, golden yellow eyes finally meeting Marc’s maroon. “I don’t think I like girls,” he whispered, like if anything above the sound would be heard by anyone else and judged.

“Do you want to try?”

“Wha?” Julius hissed back in confusion.

Marc sat up and sat facing his best friend, “like kissing. You should kiss me—see if you do like boys. And if you don’t then...” Marc shrugged.

Julius licked his lips; the butterflies in his stomach flopping around fiercely. “But that’s your first kiss!” he exclaimed before slapping his hand over his mouth and glancing at the door to the door. When no one came bursting in he lowered it, “but that’ll be your first kiss!”

Marc shrugged, “I’ll have lots of first kisses. This will be our first kiss, and when I kiss someone else then it’ll be my first kiss with that person too. I mean, I kiss my Mom, Dad and siblings too so... a kiss is a kiss.” He shrugged again, brushing his hair back and out of his face. He was thinking of getting his next hair cut like his Dad’s—he liked his Dad’s hair and it didn’t have a habit of flopping back into his eyes.

“That’s not the sa—mmpf!”

Both their lips were chapped and everything was so incredibly awkward—like most kisses tended on being. Neither saw or felt fireworks go off behind their eyelids, like they heard girls at school say, they didn’t feel much of anything other than chapped lips pressing against each other and a roll in their stomach that neither could place. Was it normal to have your stomach roll and flop around all weird?

Maybe Marc would ask Mom tomorrow after Julius left to go back home.

They both pulled away slowly, eyes snapping open as soon as the connection was lost. They settled back into a seated position where they just stared at each other for nearly five minutes.

“Gross!” the both exclaimed breaking eye contact.

Both were lying.   


	37. Ice Cream and Hamburgers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt:: you work at the ice cream stand across from my hamburger place and you’re cute au

Across from Happy Burger was a cute little ice cream shop. And while she didn’t decide to work at the fast food restaurant because of the ice cream parlor, it did help with keeping her working at Hell Burger this summer season.

She had no idea that Adam Taurus was back in town this summer, nor did she know that he helped out at his Uncle’s ice cream parlor. And boy, did he grow up nice! Those last three years of college was certainly adding to that natural attractiveness he seemed to always posses.

Even when he had braces in middle school, and even before he shot up a foot from grade eight to grade nine.

It was his face that always captured her attention. When puberty hit his face had started to lose that baby chubby cheeks that kids tended to have. But college... wow, college really slimmed down his face even more. All hard but smooth edges. Wow, hella nice. Blake approves of this.

Blake would always get off work an hour before the ice cream parlor closed—she would pop in, smelling of grease and bad choices. He’d be leaning against the counter in his pink, yellow and dark blue horizontal striped shirt, a smug look already pulling up at his eyebrow.

It was what she was greeted with right now as she walked into the establishment.

“What are you having today, Blake?” Adam crossed his arms on the glass, resting his chin on his folded arms.

She hummed, tapping at her chin in thought. “Not too sure,” she smiled, “which one haven’t I tried?”

“Cotton candy.” She gagged at the idea, “oh come on, you used to love it!” He grabbed a little plastic spoon and tipped the pink plastic into the equally pink ice cream.

“Yeah... when I was five!” She couldn’t believe that he remembered that. She hardly remembered anything that happened around that age. She remembered that the Taurus’ and Belladonna’s used to live on the same block around that time. Then Blake and her family moved to the other side of town.

Growing up Adam was always that older cool high school guy that her friends would bother her about. Being two years older than Blake and her friends could in fact be the cause of this mindset. Yang would be constantly having her ask Adam to bring them to all the upperclassmen’s parties and get them some booze. It was great—embarrassing but still great and all that. She used to idolize the guy, thought he was really cute too.

That didn’t help things.

Broke her heart when she walked in on him sucking face with a guy, then she just got really confused when she found him kissing a girl an hour later. But that’s what happens in high school when you’re drinking, or at least that’s what it seemed to be like. It was only months later than she learned that bisexuality was (and is) a thing and that Adam was familiar with it.

“I’ll just take chocolate with a butt-ton of sprinkles,” she finally settled on one flavour, a boring but classic choice. Couldn’t go wrong with a classic.

Adam quickly scooped out her choice of ice cream and adding a scoop of butterscotch ripple without charge. He took the sprinkle shaker, popping off the lid and tipping the container until a small mountain of multicoloured edible glitter smothered her treat.

She snorted, covering her nose and mouth with the back of her hand while the other went to fish for her money in her pocket. “On the house,” he said stabbing a spoon into the pile and sliding the cup towards her.

She blinked in a momentary confusion but accepted the offer as it was. Well, her heart clenched, ears warming with colour (but that was beyond her control). “Are you busy this weekend?” she blurted out, the cup still on the counter between them. “There’s this movie playing and I was wondering if you’d like to go see it with me—”

He started laughing; really laughing. A full body, double-over clutching his sides kind of laugh. The one he used to laugh when they used to live on the same block. He disappeared behind the counter, his laughter still ringing out in the empty store and Blake’s ears were darkening in colour. The laughter stopped and he pulled himself back up from behind the counter, “I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out since high school.”

She sputtered, “WHAT!? ADAM!” 


	38. Your name is Blake Belladonna...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You weren't expecting this to happen when he caught your eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the middle of exam time and I need to give this another read through to catch some more things. I had problems with keeping the 2nd POV in mind while writing this.
> 
> There's a trigger warning for this chapter please look at tags

You first saw him on your way to class.

It was on the second bus that you had to take to go to school; one of the two Universities that littered your city (and the college that your best friend goes to but you always wanted to try your hand at the university experience and this school was great). It was the first week of classes for your first year of being a University student.

The weather was nice; the heat was still ruining your hair and causing the small of your back to collect sweat. But you didn’t have to wear a sweater and the deep purple shorts you shimmied into that morning was helping in battling the heat.

You checked your phone, no new notifications, and then your appearance in the screen. Your bow was still artfully hiding your Faunus ears under the black material. Your purple eye shadow and shiny lip-gloss was still in artfully perfect condition despite the heat.

You glanced up from your phone then; the bus was filling up and some people were standing. And that’s how he caught your attention. His left arm was wrapped up in crisp white bandages, from knuckles to what you could see creeping into his deep red tank top. You weren't sure if they were for a fashion statement or if he had hurt himself.

You just remember that he had nice muscle definition on those arms.

You remember the red of his shirt then the bandage, and the red and black phone case protecting his phone. It had a small crack in the top right corner. You remember following that bandaged arm up to his tanned neck to his chin then his sharp nose. It matched his angular face—it looked nice. You kinda had a thing for sharp features and a nice nose. His maroon eyes were focused on his phone and one of his eyes were encircled with what looks to be the remains of a black eye.

You winced at that—it still looked painful even if it was healing nicely. From there you took notice of the scar leading up into his hair line, a good part of the scar disturbed the corner of his eyebrow and that’s when you noticed the make-up. He was wearing foundation to cover most of his scars, but the bruising around his left eye gave it away. And once you saw that you could pick out the rest. There were five scars littering his upper cheek to forehead.

They were long too.

You remembered gulping and tucking a hair behind your human ears as your gaze traveled back down to his neck where there was another scar running from his ear and down his neck to his collarbone. That one was harder to spot due to the make-up.

You remember wondering what could’ve happened to warrant someone going to that extreme to either kill someone or mark them. And that’s the moment where you finally looked at up at his hair and saw the deep brown horns spiking up and curling along with his gelled auburn hair.

He was a Faunus just like you.

It was then that his maroon coloured eyes finally glanced up from his phone and your eyes locked momentarily. Right before you turned your attention away from him and towards the window where the scenery blurred by.

-.-.-.-.-.-

You saw him for the rest of the week; in a blue shirt, another red shirt (this time a t-shirt rather than the tank that he first wore), and a couple of black ones. Every time you saw him you would take him in, playing with the tips of your black hair before pushing it behind your human ear. You would watch him until he’d look at you, and you’d quickly look away with a growing blush on your cheeks.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

It was a month into school when you finally decided to go without the bow for once. You’ve established who you were and you met some cool people—and you were running late and it took enough time to apply your make-up and put on those heels before you ran to catch the bus.

You got off at the station where you catch your second bus and waited. You pulled out your phone checking your emails and messages quickly—nothing of importance—before stuffing it back in your purse with your wallet, bus pass, and class books. The notebook and class reading fit rather nicely and you were proud with your favourite Couch purse (the pink, gray, and white plaid one).

You glanced up and to your right—and there he was waiting at the same station as you.

He was sitting on the lip of the station where the glass met the concrete base, his phone out and bag resting against his leg. He was wearing a dark gray long sleeved shirt that was rolled up to his elbows. You remember wondering why he would wear something like that when it was still warm out. You noticed that the bandages were off and in its place was a sickening burn scar—your breath caught in your throat and you could feel the acid in your stomach bubble.

He glanced up from his phone with a raised brow—how he always knew where you were startled you (when you were thinking back to it later). His eyes sweeping over you from feet to the tips of your cat ears—they lingered there, eyes narrowing briefly—before locking gazes with you again.

You looked away, just like you always tend to do, the back of your neck warming. It crept up higher the longer his gaze stayed on you. It remained there until your bus came and everyone piled on.

You lost sight of him after that.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

It’s now two months into the semester and you’ve still been watching him. You’re starting to feel like a total creep. You thought this when you took your seat and scooted over until you were pressed against the window, pulling out the book you needed to read for class you licked your index finger and flipped to the page that you left off at.

Someone took the seat next to you, their black ripped jeans pressed against the chair in front of them. The person was too long for the seat, or at least to sit comfortably in the seat. You didn’t pay your seat partner any mind, you had to read this book for class and it was actually pretty decent.

It was a first.

“What are you reading?” your seat neighbour was male and you didn’t pay it anymore mind than that even as you paused your reading to show him the cover. He hummed something that you didn’t pick up even with that extra set of ears that you had—you were back to reading.

When it was time to get off at your stop you doggie-eared the page and pulled on the yellow string to signal the bus driver to stop. Your seat neighbour was already standing as you turned your attention that way. You gave the man a small smile in thanks only to have your throat tighten when you saw his unmake-uped face smirking down at you. You blushed darting away and out of the bus when it finally came to a stop.

It wasn’t until later on that evening that you heard him speak but didn’t even take the time to take in his voice.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The bus was packed and you had to stand—you hated coming home at this time of day. It was always so busy. You adjusted your hold on your purse and shifted in your jacket. You were back to wearing your bow again, the looks you were getting every so often was making you uncomfortable—you kept thinking of **bus guy** and all the scars he had.

You didn’t want to have that—or worse.

There was some unrest between the human and Faunus population with the sudden shooting and murders. Faunus were enraged—protesting, shaking up the system, _making noise_. They were even waving the White Fang flag, the old one... the **blue one**. The one that you yourself used to hold up as a child—before the extremists took hold of it and turn the colour from blue to red.

You haven’t seen those red flags at this—it hasn’t lead to that yet it seems. And even you, with your anti-violence and do good way, was itching to hold up that red flag that the new-wave coloured with the blood of fallen Faunus. Something needed to be done and something needed to be done _months ago_ , and unfortunately the only thing people ever care about is violence.

But violence only leads to more violence and you knew that more than anything. It’s what kept you from actually reaching for the red flag and instead settled with mass rebloging the events on your blog and thinking about joining the front lines.

But you were scared—people were dying while protesting and you couldn’t put your parents through that. You couldn’t.

You had to stand on the bus ride today, squished by bodies all around you. You frowned keeping your eyes down; even with the bow on you didn’t feel all that safe. The bus jerked, slamming on the breaks and you yelped grapping at the only thing you could—the body in front of you. The person in return pressed a hand against the small of your back and pressed you against him.

You flushed, “sorry,” you smiled slightly lopsided up at the male. A scarred face with a pinched smile smiled back down at you. You flustered, you ran into **bus guy** again and wow was he ever cute up close like this. You cleared your throat as you felt your blush creep up your neck and cheeks, “hi.”

The pinched smile (if you could even call it that) leveled off into something a little more relaxed, “hey.” And here you were, finally able to actually appreciate that sound.

You should introduce yourself, you are kinda clinging to him like a life raft (like a lover on those hipster couple posts that you secretly enjoy). “I’m Blake,” you tighten your hold when the bus driver slammed on the breaks again. His other hand was anchored around the yellow bar above your heads, arm straining under the sudden shift of momentum.

“Adam,” he replied quickly sparing a glance at the destination bar check their progress towards their stop. “Getting off at Triven Station?” he inquired, you nodded. That was the same station you saw him at before—the same station that you have to wait for your next bus at. You glanced up towards where you know his horns were, wondering if he was hiding them too.

He wasn’t.

You noticed a couple of people glancing at the two of you; the man in a business suit was frowning and his mouth was opening and closing as if he wanted to say something. Adam leaned closer so he could whisper in your covered ear, “he’s not the only one staring.”

“Why are they staring?” you ask despite thinking that you know the answer. It’s because you look like a human and he’s a big scarred Faunus.

“Because you’re a pretty young thing and I’m a big ‘ol brute with too many scars,” you pressed back against the hand pressed against the small of your back so you could purse your lips at him. He scoffed—a cut of laugh, “it’s true. Don’t look at me like that.”

You shook your head, a small smile gracing your features despite your best efforts. You move your hands from the hold you have on his jacket so you can wrap your arms around his waist, holding your own hand behind his back. “I don’t believe you,” you laugh resting your cheek against his pectoral. You could feel his heart thundering against his ribcage.

No one said anything to the two of you after that but you could still feel the looks; they followed you as the two of you got off the bus. He turned towards you as you stopped just outside the bus depot, hand raised to push open the door so you could wait out of the wind. “You need a ride?” he pointed to the parking lot to his left, his keys already fished out and dangling around his middle finger as he pointed with his index.

You licked you lips, whipping the lipstick off that you had just applied before jumping on that bus. You nodded, feeling the iron fist that was wrapped around your gut and pressing in finally loosen. It wasn’t exactly safe for a woman—a Faunus woman—in this time in society. The unrest between humans and Faunus were seeing to that.

You followed him to his car, a 2011 black Chevy Impala, you look up at him and he shrugs with his right shoulder. “The car before this crapped out so this one is a decent enough replacement,” the locks popped open and you slid into the passenger seat. He tossed his bag into the back before taking his seat behind the wheel and buckling in. “Where am I driving you do?” he stretched, cracking his knuckles before turning the key in the ignition.

You tell him your address and he begins to drive.

When you direct him to your house that you share with three other people you aren’t sure what you should do or say. Should you get out? You’ll thank him, that’s the only guarantee here. Do you hug him? “Do you need a drive to school tomorrow?” his thumb is tap-tapping against the wheel and you nod. You won’t turn up a ride to class. “Is a 9AM pick up good?”

You nod again; your class isn’t until 11 tomorrow so that gives you plenty of time. Maybe you could convince him to let you buy him a coffee or something. You hesitate to push the door open; your body is telling you to do something else.

You listen to it—cupping his cheek and pressing your lips against the opposite in a quick peck. “Thank you,” you say as you push the door open. His cheeks are a light pink and you smile waving at him with your fingers. He stays there until you get into your house—he sends you a small wave as he’s pulling away.

Your heart is beating wildly in your throat and you lie to yourself and say that you aren’t in love with a near stranger. You close the door and sink down to the floor with your back pressed against it and your hand clutching the fabric over your heart.

 You blame these thoughts and feelings on your romance novels and the fanfiction you read all the time. You blame yourself a little for being a hopeless romantic. But above all else you blame it on romanticising your parents’ relationship and the story of how they met—in a coffee shop, your Mom was reading a book and your Dad asked her what book she was reading and it was the mixture of the lighting and just that moment that lead to both of them claiming it was love at first sight. You blame that story and the girlish dream of finding a relationship just like theirs.

It was now that you finally remembered the very first thing Adam ever said to you those months ago—it was about your book that you were reading in class. You colour and jump up from the floor, kicking your shoes off and racing up the stairs to the bedroom that you call your own. You call your mother after you’ve screamed into your pillow and pulled the bow from your head.

“He said Dad’s line!” you whined flopping back into your bed and hugging your teddy bear that you’ve had since you were four to chest. “I didn’t even realise until today!”

Your mother laughed and warned you about talking to strangers. That it isn’t as safe as it was in her time—you wanted to argue that it was because more people are coming forward now in this day in age. And that the most threatening person to you would be someone that you know and was close to. But that was an argument that replayed enough times throughout your life and you didn’t want to repeat it again right now.

So you just agree with her and promise you’ll be careful—you’re always careful.

-.-.-.-

You bought him a coffee and forced him to eat a bagel—even after he said he didn’t want it. He hadn’t eaten that morning and you wouldn’t accept no for an answer. He didn’t fight you when you paid though, you made sure to glare at him so he wouldn’t.

When he dropped you off on campus you kissed his cheek again and you could’ve sworn that he leaned into it. The two of you shared phone numbers that day as well—you learned that his last name was Taurus; he learned that yours was Belladonna.

You don’t know why he chuckled at that, but he did and it sounded nice so you didn’t ask why.

-.-.-.-.-.-

He flopped down on the couch next to you in the library of your school. It took awhile but you were able to convince him into coming out to your school so you could hang out before both of you head home. You had to finish writing a paper and your roommates were fighting right now so you didn’t really want to be in the middle of that.

You had your book cracked open and were skimming over the text that you need to find the quote for. He was shrugging off his jacket and folding it beside him. The t-shirt that he was wearing did nothing to hide the scars on the arm closest to you. You wanted to ask him about it, you wanted to ask him about all of his scars, but you never could form the words to do so.

You took his hand in yours, “can you feel things still?” you asked knowing that that would be the closest you could get in asking the question that you really wanted to. He weaved your fingers with his and you tightened your hold on his hand. The scars only tipped past his wrist to the top of his hands—like the whole thing was just a really detailed tattoo sleeve instead of a memory of something painful.

“I can still feel through my hand and fingers, it’s the arm that’s a little numb to sensations like different fabric. It still registers pressure, so it could be worse,” you look up to see the corner of his mouth tug up in the smallest of smirks. Your heart breaks at that and you want to kiss him, you want to cover that mouth with yours and kiss a true smile on his face.

He licks at his lips and your eyes follow it—you glance back at his eyes and he’s watching you in return. You flush and started to fold into yourself, he chuckled nuzzling his face against your temple. “You’re adorable,” he whispered and you could swear that you felt his lips press against your hair.

You blush and go back to working on your essay. He detangled his hand from yours and you were momentarily disappointed by the action until he settled back with him own textbook that he fished from his bag and set a hand just above your knee.

Heat pooled in your gut and your face darkened; you would suck in a breath every time his thumb would rub over the fabric of your pant leg. You could hear the faint _huff huff_ that escaped him every single time.

-.-.-.-.-

You invited him in one night after he drove you home. You showed him where the visitor parking was and held the door open for him as he entered your house that you shared with three other girls. Two of them were still fighting and you hoped that they wouldn’t get into a screaming match this evening like they did the night before.

Both you and he toed of your shoes and set on the mat by the door, you told him to keep the jacket on and you showed him up to your room. The smallest one in the house, but you preferred this room rather than the others. All you needed was your bed, a mirror (that hung over your desk) and a desk. Your clothes were folded and hung up in the closet along with your collection of shoes (heels, flats, boots, runners... you had a large and always expanding collection).

Adam hung his jacket on the back of your desk chair before taking a seat at the foot of your bed, his heel propped up on the lip of the base of your bed and he tilted his head as he watched you putter around your neat room. You hung your jacket up in the closet, making sure to block the view of the clear container holding your variety of coloured panties (from booty shorts to g-strings).

You pulled the bow off next, tying the ribbon around the little metal rack that held all the others. You finally turned to face him, your heart beating in your throat as you watched him watch you with amusement painfully obvious in his expression. You took the two steps needed to stand in front of him; you were still not tall enough to warrant him to look up at you like you do him.

You blame your high bed, but mostly him.   

He gives you that little lopsided smirk and you _just go for it_ , cupping his face with both hands and pressing your lips against his. He pulled at your belt until you were sitting in his lap and his palms were dragging up your sides, you could feel your shirt hike up slightly. You parted your lips when you felt his tongue against your lips and you hummed at the feeling of his tongue running over your teeth and against the tip of your tongue.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

His name is Adam Taurus and he’s a member of the White Fang. You knew this before you kissed him—he told you that he was a member since the blue era, and even now that it had fallen into the red one he was still a part of it. What you learned came after the kiss—he told you that the scars had nothing to do with the group but outside situations. He didn’t explain anything else about them. But he did share his information on why the red flag hasn’t made an appearance at any of the protests—even the radicals didn’t want to cause trouble.

Even the _radicals_ knew how **horrible** the situation was and didn’t want to invoke anything that could make it worse.

His name is Adam Taurus and he’s almost three years older than you. You would’ve assumed that he was a Taurus, like his name—like some form of irony. But he was a Capricorn, born January 10th despite his parents’ **cruel** wishes for him to be an actual Taurus—he told her that they wished they planned it better. And while you didn’t follow zodiac horoscopes as much as some other people, you wouldn’t deny looking up Virgo and Capricorn compatibilities.

His name is Adam Taurus and he had a two bedroom apartment that he shares with a guy you’ve nicknamed Bane. You learned that he has two middle names that he goes by just as frequently as he does with his first and last name. All the names whirl around in your head and you have to settle with the nickname after Adam suggests it to you.

You’ve slept over at his place before, shared a bed with Adam and made out for most of the night. Neither one of you shedding any clothing apart from the clothes that you took off and changed into before going to bed. Your hands sneaking up the back of his shirt when he sucked marks onto your collar bone. 

His name is Adam Taurus and you found out that he has gunshot wounds to go along with the burns and stab wounds decorating his chest, arm and face. You saw them after your exams when you spending another night at his place. Both you and he had settled back into his bed without your shirts and you took the opportunity to explore the expansion of flesh.

You had kissed over the scar littering his chest—fingered over the bullet wounds. Some of them didn’t look like bullet wounds but he said they were so you had to trust his word. You had never seen bullet wounds before so it’s not like you could argue anything even if you wanted to. You dug your fingers into his neck and massaged the knots out of it to the best of his ability (he later explained that while the wounds healed they still hurt every so often).

You told him to roll over so you could do his back—you really just wanted to feel him up and this was the best excuse. You saw the three little tattoos he had on his right shoulder blade—two of them were of the White Fang’s emblem (the old and the new one) and a wilting rose. He explained that was his family crest. You kissed that one as you worked out the knots in his lower back—his groans muffled by the pillow.

His name is Adam Taurus and he has two brothers—one younger and one older. The younger one died five years ago—Adam had pressed a hand against the scar on his neck when he told you. You were going to meet his family for the first time during the winter break and you had asked what you needed to expect from them.

He didn’t want to tell you, you could see it in his eyes, but he did so anyways. He explained that his parents moved them out into the country because of the quiet and they (his parents) thought it would do them some good to get away from the city. Adam and his older brother were getting into a lot of fights because of their Faunus characteristics. And of course after moving schools and into a small town with small town ideals and with a dominating human population that’s when a kid brought a knife to school.

He didn’t say much else other than that—even that last part was broken phrases. You held him through it, kissing each fresh tear track that fell from his eyes and dripped from his chin. And when you went to his parents you didn’t wear the bow—you felt safe with Adam, you felt safe with the Taurus’ too, you even felt safe around Adam’s weird roommate.

His name is Adam Taurus and you had sex with him for the first time on New Years. The two of you were fucking against the bathroom door at Yang’s party when the house was counting down until the New Year. When the house yelled and choruses of “HAPPY NEW YEARS!!” sounded you came. You came so hard you yelled, even cried a little bit after as you caught your breath. You haven’t had sex like that in a _long time_. Afterwards as you and he caught your breath, you were sitting in the sink with your pink thong dangling around your ankle and he was shimmying his pants and boxers back into place on his hips, you told him that.

He had smiled and kissed your lips—he wished you a happy New Year then, and you whispered it back to him as you pulled him into another kiss. Yang had waggled her eyebrows at you when she found you again, pointing at the hickey peaking out beneath the collar of your shirt and you winked back at her.

His name is Adam Taurus and despite what everyone thought, and still thinks, he was the one that told you he loved you first. You were too scared to ever say it, thinking that if you said something he’d think it was too soon and he’d run off. But that wasn’t the case it seems, for he beat you to it and your stomach flipped and flopped for the whole night.

You had torn his clothes off as soon as the two of you returned to his place (it was like you had moved in but without _actually_ moving in). You couldn’t wait until you made it to his bedroom so the both of you made love on the couch.

You whispered those words back to him after both of you were spent and he was carrying you to the bathroom for the bath you had mentioned wanting to have earlier—before he had told you those three little words. Both of you had shared a bath that night; your back was pressed firmly against his chest and his fingers massaging circles into your scalp.

His name is Adam Taurus and after a year of dating you finally moved into his apartment. You were spending money on a place that you hardly even went to and it was about time that it happened. Bane was an excellent cook and you were tempted to marry his cooking—he made an excellent roast. And between the two of you, you kept Adam well fed.

That guy really hated cooking—he could make a great sandwich, and a mean homemade pasta sauce (family recipe or something)—but he was better suited in dealing with power tools. Anything dealing with a car was right up his alleyway of expertise. Bane and you would also have him repair whatever was on the fritz in the apartment.

Replacing a light fixture? Adam.

Something to do with plumbing? Adam.  

Need to put together something from Ikea? Get Adam to do it—but film it just encase he got mad, that was some great entertainment.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Your name is Blake Belladonna and you’re a Faunus. You have black hair and golden yellow eyes. You have a Mother and a Father and an asshole of an older sister. You’re living in a two bedroom apartment that you share with your boyfriend (soon to be fiancée, you went snooping and found the ring) of two and a half years. You’re studying English at Beacon University and you’re taking time off of school this year.

Your name is Blake Belladonna and you just had a baby boy.


	39. Adam, no (*whispers* Adam, yes)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know. My brain is mush right now and I needed to write something before I go back to my studying for my 70% of final grade exam that I have tomorrow. FML
> 
> Also, i was going to originally have Adam get like... decapitated but I was like "nahhhhh not in the mood!" So have a short and sweet thing.

She fired, with each shot her heart clench—over and over again. It did nothing and in a sick twisted way... she was happy about that. Gamble Shroud changed into the ninjato form and she pared with his blade.

He swept her feet out from under her and she rolled until she could catch her footing and pull herself back up.

He could’ve taken her head off right there—why didn’t he?

If she wasn’t who she was then he’d do it—she left, she wasn’t the same person he knew.

 She heard the shout of her name before the gunshots—she saw his blood drip from his face and shoulder, the mask falling to the ground in pieces.

His aura kicked in, licking and glowing at the wounds until only the dark red blood remained. He stepped towards Sun, his chin dripping with red and his teeth barred. She shouted, he didn’t even look at her, she ran.

He had gotten faster, but he was always fast. She jumped on his back just as he was pulling Wilt from Sun’s stomach. He had been cruel, twisting the blade like that. He had never done that before—never. He took too much pride in his swordsmanship. Her arm wrapped around his throat as she clung.

She yelled for someone; the fear that flickered in Sun’s eyes scared her. She yelled for anyone but she couldn’t take her eyes off the blond’s.

Only when her world shifted and the man in her hold behaved just like how she feared—like the animal that his Faunus characteristics took from. She heard the crack of her skull against the pavement rather than saw anything—she couldn’t see anything to being with. His weight left her now that her hold around him became nonexistent—she felt like _she_ was nonexistent right now.

She could only think of one thing as everything left her; _Adam, no._


	40. Christmas fix 2014: Height is helpful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: You're tall and I can't reach this thing on the top self. Can you help me?

Adam didn’t understand what was so magical about Christmas or the whole holiday seasons in general. Sure, he liked snow enough and then he also preferred colder weather over the heat. But it was the whole thing of Christmas and just... yeah, it was just confusing. The festivities (singing, getting gifts, hanging plants on doors and sticking up a tree before throwing decorations onto it... etc.) and the whole _big deal_ around the holiday just confused him—like what the hell?

He didn’t even understand why he listened to his roommate when he mentioned getting a little tree for their apartment—and lights; he wanted lights for the balcony. It wasn’t like he or his roommate had any reason to really celebrate the holiday anyways—New Years and Halloween were their holidays of choice (getting drunk and scaring the shit out of people where kind of their thing).

At least the Christmas lights could be a cool thing to enjoy even without it being for the holidays, just drag that shit inside and hang it from his ceiling or something. Would make for something cool to look at when they get high or drunk.

Adam plucked the first box of lights off the self and flipped it over to read the back. He had no idea what he had to do with these things. He hasn’t celebrated any winter holidays since he was a little kid, and even that was kinda blurred out of his memory. He grumbled under his breath and put the box back before moving to another one.

He went through three more on top of that box before setting _that_ one back and moving onto a different isle. There was a woman standing in that one and he quickly pardoned himself to stand on the other side of her where the boxes of purely red Christmas lights were. If the roomie was making him buy festive junk, then Adam was going to buy the stupid festive junk that came in **red**.

He weighed the object in his hand and contemplated grabbing an extra two boxes—might as well hang them up in his room if he was here getting some. “Excuse me,” he was reading at the print on the side but nothing really stuck. Yeah, yeah he would go get an extra two boxes. He recently got paid and it wasn’t like he had much of anyone to shop for this holiday season (his roommate and he kinda just chucked either other’s presents at the other and maybe made a roast on the 25th ‘cause why the fuck not). A hand touched his bicep and Adam started, fumbling with the box. “Sorry,” the woman sent a smile light smile up at him with a tilt of her head, “I just. This is a little embarrassing, but would you be able to reach that box for me?”

She pointed at the multicoloured icicle lights on the top self; she already had quite the collection of pure coloured strands of the same make in her cart. Adam nodded, reaching up to the top self and plucking the box from it with ease. Being close to 6’5” in height (he fluxuates within the 6’3”-6’5” mark and this is often linked with how stressed he is that day) had its benefits—reaching things at heights was one of them.

“Need another one?” he asked handing the box to her. And wow, yes she did have a nice face. Like a **really** nice face. And those eyes—fuck!

She smiled tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, cheeks dusting with the barest hint of a blush. She shook her head and took the box from him where she quickly added it to her cart. She licked and bit at the corner of her lips, twisting and shifting her body just so as she threw him a couple of glances. She glanced down at the box in his hand, “so you’re shopping for lights too?”

Shit he was staring.

He brought his knuckles to his lips, clearing the thump from his throat that he wasn’t even aware had formed. “Something like that. Roommate suddenly decided that he wanted to get all festive this year,” Adam ran a hand through his hair.

The woman gestured to her cart, “yeah I’m kinda in that boat too. Family wanted spend this Christmas at my house and the most festive thing I own is a four foot tree that has hardly anything on.” Her fingers weaved through the opening in the cart and she shifted from one foot to the other. Adam quickly grabbed the last two boxes that he needs for his sudden surge of festive spirit, “so are you entertaining as well?”

His heart clenched and he shook his head, “nah it’s just the roomie and I again this year.” Just like every other year before that since they first met in that _fucking place_. Adam forced a tiny crooked grin on his lips and the woman frowned—shit, that wasn’t what he was going for, recover this Adam!! He licked his bottom lip, “the name’s Adam.” He shuffled and moved the boxes in his hands around until they stacked hazardly in one arm and his other hand was held out in front of him for a hand shake.

The woman huffed rolling her golden yellow eyes at him and took the boxes from his hold and plopped it into her cart. Her smaller hand curled around his and she shook it, “I’m Blake.” Her lips pulled up into a blindingly beautiful smile and Adam’s heart lurched up in his throat. “Would you mind helping me shop for some more decorations... you know, in case I need help getting something from higher up?” She tucked her hair behind her ear with the free hand of hers.

Adam blinked, nodding wordlessly.


	41. letters 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm writing about Faunus racism and such in this AU 'cause its being so brushed over in canon and its pissing me off. I'm fixing this problem.   
> Also, this chapter takes place during/before the chapter before this and Adam does make a reference to a conversation with White Fang LT (whom I'm naming Bane 'cause of the production nickname for him). I had to go back and make a quick little fix to the chapter before so it works.

Chapter 5:

Adam leaned forward, resting his elbows on the bar table. The heel of his boot hooked on one of the rungs of the stool with his mask weighing heavily in his inside jacket pocket. Like some dirty secret. Like he was _supposed_ to be ashamed of it.

He wasn’t.

He rather enjoyed the Grimm mask; it was this moment in time though. Just this _fucking_ moment.

The darker skinned man leaned forward as well, his own mask buried in his gym bag on the ground by his stool. “I still don’t get it,” Bane hissed gripping his beer bottle, “he was the one that went on and on about humanity and his own _fucking_ hatred of it.” It was all they talked about recently; him, Adam and the rest of the higher ups in this division.

It was only outside of the ever watchful eyes of their Boss and the underlings did the title of Lieutenant get replaced by the man’s name. There’s only so much a man can hear of that title before he wanted to _hurt_ something.

“He’s acting without the others knowledge,” Adam gripped the neck of his own bottle and twirled the object lazily, watching the liquid swirl round and round. “He’s warned me of the... consequences,” he paused to huff at the thought of it, “that would be dealt if the other two learned of his actions.”

Not many were aware of it but the White Fang had different ‘divisions’. Run by three separate leaders, mostly divided by location on the map. These three separate leaders controlled their own separate group of White Fang—they ran things differently. One were flying the blue flag up until three years ago where a heavily Faunus populated town was bombed. Eleven lives lost, far too many injured.

And Adam had the _pleasure_ of meeting all these head figures—the bosses and their seconds.

After all, the man he, himself, called “boss” and “sir” took a liking to him—trusted him.

“No shit,” Bane hissed taking a swing from his beer.

Adam huffed, smirking at the man in front of him. Bane grinned around the glass pressed to his lips. “His men have lost respect for him,” Adam drawled circling his wrist lazily, going back to watching the liquid swirl around in the bottle. He and Bane have talked about this more than both would ever admit. This and Blake; he was the one that kept tabs on her for him, after all it was his division of men that were being targeted by Beacon group. “And you’re getting a **nice** ,” he sneered, “relocation down South.”

Bane grinned knowing exactly what Adam was getting at. Now that talk of Blake and her constant intrusions were to be monitored and properly taken care of they could get down to what really mattered. He knocked their bottles together. “If something goes wrong you continue as planned and I’ll make sure I come back so I can see you rise,” Bane grinned that pointed grin of his, sharp teeth catching to corner of his lip and yellow reptilian eyes crinkled in the corners.

The pair looked like something out of a horror movie; if only Adam continued to grow his horns out and Bane would lose the high necked shirts that covered the scales peeking up and up from his neck towards his hairline.

Adam chuckled taking a drink to that.

All this time; all these years of loyalty and **_rolling over_** like some trained beast, all those years of pruning and tutoring that man had **given** Adam. After all these years everything was finally coming together.

His empty hand clenched in, an itch was building. Ever since Blake’s little... confession. One final warning; he wanted to give her one final warning before everything. But... he was a monster, was he not? He was a monster and he wasn’t about to change that.

His fingers dug into his palm and he could feel that corner of his lips pulling upwards.

It was only a matter of time.

...only a matter of time.  


	42. letters 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Dark, violence, blood
> 
> Not in Adam's POV (nor Blake's)

Chapter 6:

The man jolted at the sound of alarms blaring. The whole city was roaring up in a panic and all the man could think was: “this is too early” and later, “there’s something wrong.”

Adam shifted in his seat in front of the man’s desk. “There’s something wrong,” he stated the man’s very thoughts, he stared at the phone on the man’s desk. His expression blank; it was always blank. All the year’s he had known Adam his eyes had always been his tell, and since the masks came into commission it had become difficult to understand his right-hand man.

Truly understand him.

Since the betrayal of Blake, Adam had been _off_. He had always been exceptionally close with that cat Faunus, and he wasn’t happy with it. Not when he couldn’t use the girl against him. It was always good to have a little _leverage_ when it came to people with power... never know when you might need to tear their heart out and force them back into line.

Both phones rang.

The man stared at his second, seeing the picture of the Lieutenant light up the screen on the device before Adam placed it to his ear. The man had mixed feelings with those few seconds it took between answering and placing it to his ear. The man’s own phone continued to ring.

Adam hummed and hung up.

The bull Faunus stood pulling his gloves back over his hands, fingers wiggling into place. He cracked his knuckles then rolled his shoulders; the man settled back at that, fingers weaving together. Adam smirked and nodded towards the man, “seems I need to go fix the mistake,” he voiced with ease. Grabbing Wilt and Blush from the seat, thumbing the line where they met and flushed together.

The man chuckled at the notion of Adam waiting for the ‘ _go ahead_ ’. He waved him off, “go take care of the problem if you must.” He leaned back in his plush seat turning his attention from the other man and towards the phone that still rung.

The phone continued to ring.

Adam pulled Wilt from Blush, smirk growing. The man’s attention snapped up at the smooth slide of the blade, “here’s the thing Boss,” the feeling from before returned as Adam tilted his head towards the man. “There’s been some unrest amongst the ranks,” he clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth, “the other Bosses aren’t too thrilled to hear what you’ve done either.” His voice dipped into something sickenly sweet and _chipper_.

The man stood, eyeing his jacket across the room. Hidden in the inside pocket was his own weapon. Across the room. The man ground his teeth together as he eyed the direction of the door and the man he believed to raise and mold into a proper leader. The same young man that situated himself between him and his salvation... his weapon and only way out of this room.

The phone continued to ring.

“What Boss? Aren’t you to punish me for telling them?” Adam grinned tilting his head to the opposite side now. He was drawing this out; the _sick bastard_ was enjoying this. It was what he had originally liked about Adam; once he had gotten over the shock of **that much blood** on his hands he had taken to his job like it was an art form worth mastering.

He shouldn’t have trained him to torture those humans—shouldn’t have made sure killing was one of the boy’s best skills. He knew that it had one of two outcomes—but here it was. He had helped shape this man into the monster society painted them as. Did he not? Did he not beat the lesson of “shoot first, questions later” into his head? Did he not sentence a child to kill his first man after witnessing the tussle in that alley many _many_ years ago?

Was this not his doing or was this man just truly a beast?

Adam brought Wilt up and stared at the red blade. “Nothing to say?” He didn’t move a muscle and the man began to shift away from the desk. It wasn’t that he had nothing to say—oh he had plenty to say, calling his a traitor was one of the loudest along with the string of profanity lacing his thoughts. The man crept from his desk and his second-in-command, towards the door and towards his weapon.

The phone stopped ringing.

The man lurched forwards, towards the door and away from the other male. He heard a _swoosh_ and the slide of Wilt being swallowed by Blush. The man felt a pinch—the pain spreading across his shoulder and down his torso. He felt more than heard the blood spraying from his body as he choked, slipping. He was slipping. He tried to move, to step forward—nothing. Just the fall; the last exhale.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing...

...

The phone rang again.

“Taurus,” the bull Faunus answered pausing to listen to the person on the other end, “I’ll be right there.” The man hung up the phone, turning on his heel and raising his brow behind his mask. The blood was pooling around the parts and Adam sighed; at least it wasn’t carpet.

He stepped over the fallen figure, pausing in the doorway and glancing back towards the man. “Fuck you, asshole,” he snarled and left the room with a roll of his shoulders.


	43. Corner Kids Crew:: Learning Who I Am (Again)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam's learning who he is again.  
> Its a trail and error type ordeal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've read Team ADAR(M) at all you'll recognize these names very very quickly.
> 
> So, if any of you have seen anything of my Tumblr you might be able to piece together what's going on. If not, this story will be a nice little hint towards what my mindset is most days. Though... I'm not actually able to just jump on a flight and leave. So I'm writing. Lots and lots of writing.
> 
> Anyways, this seems rushed and cut off 'cause its kinda supposed to. It'll piece together later but these are meant to be brief windows into moments to show Adam's mindset and how it shifts. Because mental health is a fucking roller-coaster and there's always that possibility that he'd return to chapter two mentality.

He had bought some more clothes before arriving to the airport; two pairs of pants, boxers, a couple of shirts and some socks. He had also grabbed a charger cable for his phone... and a couple of language dictionaries. German, Italian, French and Polish dictionaries to be specific. He had always wanted to go visit Germany and Poland, Germany more so seeing that's where his father was born and raised in for most of his life. He could also speak the language so that's all fun and dandy saves him from some unneeded stress.

Buying a ticket to Germany last minute was the only problem. It took the longest, having to check for open flights and so on and so forth. But he got through, his bag was stuffed in the over head compartment and book cracked open in his lap. And for the first time in months, Adam's shoulders dropped and he could  _breath._ His phone in hand, thumb hovering over the send button.  **"Love you,"** he added quickly and hit the button before anything could stop him. He powered down the device right after, not wanting to deal with his Aunt's response. Not when he could finally breathe.

The first week was weird without him by his side. His partner in crime just dropped off the face of the Earth. Took a plane to who knows where. No updates to his Facebook, and no text messages either. Roman wondered if he had even gotten them in the first place. Cinder had started skipping the odd English class to keep him company during his free period, the one that he had shared with Adam. It was wrong having her prowl beside him up and down the halls, and finding that little hideaway hole tucked in the middle of The Hall of Shame and the middle of Fuck All.

She had kissed his cheek, running her hand over his other cheek and up into his hair. "He'll be back," she had whispered. For herself or for him, he wasn't completely sure who those words were trying to convince. "The only thing we can do is keep him up to date with everything that's been going on." She had weaved their fingers together, pressing her lips against his shoulder. "Start spamming his facebook wall with timbits of information. Keep him included in our everyday life, and hope that maybe he'd reply."

Her co-workers loved to gossip. And the fact that her nephew is constantly running away from home for weeks at a time doesn't escape their grasp. And since that evening where Roman and she had to wheel him into the ER unconscious and wrists bleeding the staff were constantly hovering around for more information.

More reasons to call her a fuck up as a parent.

She wasn't good enough to raise a child. She couldn't make him happy, to make him feel safe and secure. He had to run away, time and time again. And she tried to be understanding and open and  **there**. But it was never enough, was it? Nothing she ever did was good enough for him. Adam kept buggering off to who knows where for such a long time. And this time he was  _flying_  away from home, away from her.

Hostel, it was a hostel. A cheap little motel like thing that you shared with people. You slept there and you buggered off. It was a roof over your head and a decent place to sleep. Four beds in this one tiny little room, but it was a lot better than the other rooms—the bigger ones with more beds. "Please ignore them," the brown haired teen grimaced at his two blonde companions. This was Derek, eighteen years old and the current babysitter of the two blonds in the room. The muscular teen ran a hand through his hair as he spoke to Adam. Adam liked him, Derek was a great guy. Laid back and able to carry on an intelligent conversation. The three of them, Derek and the twins Axis and Maria, were quiet the sight. The two blonds poking and prodding at Derek until he snaps. The trio had seen (and heard) that he was travelling alone and they immediately adopted him into their weird group.

And that's where Adam was now, sitting on the bottom bunk across from Derek and the Rogers twins. Derek casually kept pushing their faces out of his personal bubble, "after sending three hours in the same room as you three I've kinda gotten used to all of that," Adam gestured to smooching noises that Axis made to get Derek's attention. "Now give your boyfriend a kiss before they turn their attention to me," Adam smirked.

Derek grimaced and gave Axis a firm stare, "will you behave?" he asked. Axis nodded quickly, a Cheshire cat-like grin curling his lips. The brown haired teen leaned over pecking the puckered lips. Axis' arms wrapped around the taller teen's neck, pulling the brown haired male to him and down onto the bed.

Adam shook his head and stood from the bottom bunk. If they were going to be doing this, he might as well give them as much privacy as he could. He climbed up to the top bunk and went to sleep with his back to the room and an arm tucked under his head. The stitches itched, all the time. But he was healing. His aunt would be relieved.

The first post was by a girl named Maria Rogers and there was fifteen pictures in the album titled  **Backbacking with my losers 3**. The first picture had Adam sitting beside a brown haired guy in what looked like a bedroom with bunk beds. A blonde haired boy laying, posed, over their laps—the sitting boys stared at the camera in both amusement and annoyance.

The background was beautiful in some, the buildings were lovely and the weather seemed to be nothing but great. And there was a trio climbing over Adam, and hanging off his arms (or shoulders), wrapping their arm around him in a side hug. Adam's lips never pulled up into a smile, a smirk at best, but never a smile.

Blake had messaged the girl, Maria, as soon as she saw the photos.  **Thank you for posting these,**  she had written on the IM.

 **Why are you thanking me?** The messengers binged a few seconds later. She raised her eyebrow—that was a little rude.

 **A lot of us are worried about him. He just up and left in the middle of the day without telling anyone. His aunt is worried sick.**  Blake replied back just a quickly. Maybe she could get this girl to keep an eye on Adam for them, keep them posted on what he's up to.

It was days later, still in Germany, and still travelling with the trio that Maria had set down her fork and stared at Adam for a while. Her eyes lowering to the bandages wrapped around his arms, "I keep getting Facebook messages from your friends back home." She smiled sadly at him then, "and they keep saying the same thing."

Adam leaned away from the table, his hands firmly gripping the table. "And what do they keep saying?" he inquired no longer looking at the group but over Maria's shoulder and at the young couple sitting just a little ways away.

"That you had a huge fight with your friends and family, that you disappeared and the next thing they knew you were in Germany and you've been gone for over a week." Adam ground his teeth together but finally glanced at the petite blonde haired girl. "I'm going to guess that the fight had something to do with those scars on your arms."

His forehead creased as he levelled her, and then the other two with a hard stare. They wouldn't have seen any scars; he wore bandages over them whenever he was around them. They wouldn't have known unless they had watched him in the bathroom—highly unlikely. His mind screamed at him to abort, and he did.

Or at least tried to do.

His body had tensed and was in the motion of getting out of the booth when Derek grabbed hold of his bicep and sat him back down. "We're not judging you, or cornering you," the brown haired teen spoke. "I get it; you needed to get away from everything. And I know we just met like two weeks ago or something, but we mean you no harm. At least I don't." He smiled, "Dude. We just met you, and we already care a shit ton about you. Whatever you need, we'll help you through whatever it is."

Adam sighed heavily through his nose, "I left to get away from all the questions and all the looks. I just..." he paused to lick his lips. Eyes scanning the little eatery before returning to the group at the table, "I honestly just want to be treated like a normal person again. I want to travel and see the world. I need time away from the same old place—to breathe."

Axis was the one who nodded first, a genuine serious expression on his face. "We can totally do that. We have the rest of the sights from Germany to explore, and then we can go to like France, or Greece... Oh! Italy! We need to totally go to Italy!" The blond haired man grinned wickedly to his sister and the twins began to bounce in their seat.

Adam smiled, he honest to god smiled, "Poland. I've always wanted to go to Poland."

Derek pointed at him in agreement, "Switzerland, and Hungary too."

"England!" Maria whispered eyes wide and gaze far off. She blinked, her eyes settling on Derek, "we need to go visit those British boys! C'mon Derek!" she whined and wrapped an arm around her twin's neck.

"Okay, okay!" Derek laughed, "now let your hostage go before you strangle him."

It was a little eatery with a nice cream booth seat. By the window, it was sunny. Adam was smiling. There was a blond haired man beside him, no, hanging off him. He was laying a big ol' kiss on Adam's cheek and the blonde haired woman on the other side of Adam was laughing. Adam was smiling.

" **The Red Prince can smile, what do you guys think of that? ;)** -Adam Taurus, Axis Rogers, Maria Rogers"

She covered her mouth, eyes watering. Behind her hand her lip was trembling, her breath didn't touch her hand—she was holding it. Tears began to fall down her cheeks, the warm path startling a breath of air back into her lungs. And with it she laughed; he was already starting to smile again.

Her little Adam was finally going to start smiling again.

The video started shaky, and the Corner Crew Kids (plus RWBY) gathered around the computer at lunch. They had started doing this every time something came on their news feed about Adam. From a tagged post from one of those Rogers twins, to a video like this.

This was the second video that they've seen.

The first was Maria(?) forcing Adam to speak German, which he had done, and the blonde nearly worshipped him for how attractive it sounded. From there she had promised to make him speak in whatever language of the country that they were in—even if he wasn't fluent in it.

"Guys who can speak different languages are hot, okay!" she had yelled at both Adam and the camera.

This video was in Poland, and again it was Adam speaking another language and the other three either laughing or swooning at him.

Cinder reached over Roman's shoulder to poke at the touch screen to another video that's been uploaded, it was in a bedroom. Must have been the room that they were sleeping in; Adam's hair was a mess as he stared at the camera confused as he slowly sat up. A blond haired male tackled the waking redhead back into the bed, arms encircling his torso in a bone crushing hug. "So tell everyone at home just  _itching_  to hear about all your juicy gossip—who can't you wait to go home to?" the blond haired boy spoke.

"It's too early for this shit, Axis. Go back to sleep," the redhead hissed back in reply pawing at the other's face in a weak attempt to remove the boy. His arms weren't wrapped up and the group watching could see the stitches and healing wounds on his arms with each movement.

Roman sucked in a breath at the flash of them.

And so did Blake.

"You guys weren't kidding when you said..." Wiess' voice trailed off before Yang or anyone else could cut her off.

The blond boy, Axis, was pouting as he removed himself from the redhead. "So you don't have someone at home? No special  _someone?_ " he drawled out before poking at the sleepy teen's cheek.

"Who have you twins been talking to?"

The camera moved, shaking, as the camera holder walked towards the two boys on the bed. "Everyone, Adam,  ** _everyone_** ," Adam grimaced visibly at the camera. What the girl was saying was true; everyone currently watching has made at least one message to the girl. Asking about Adam, how he was doing. Blake had asked for more videos, nothing really of importance... just videos to see how he was. If a picture was worth a thousand words then a video must be worth more, right? "Name one person and we'll let you go back to sleep!"

He stared at the camera and blinked once, twice, and once more before speaking.

"My Aunt."

It was a couple of more days on top of that before they moved on. Maria had started slowing down with her posting of videos and pictures, though she always tended to do them in huge bursts. She'd post maybe two or three videos when she did and they'd jump. One was in Poland, another in Germany, and the ones now would be from Greece. It didn't give anyone a solid timeline nor a reasonable guess as to where he was in the globe.

So, in a way it worked out just fine.

Axis was clinging off Derek again as the two ('not a couple') lead them forwards in their exploration. "Don't post anything else, please." Maria glanced up at him at that with a cock in her brow. "Our little trip is almost done, no?" he pushed out of heavy breath through his nose. "You can keep taking pictures just... don't post them until we go our separate ways." He rubbed at his uncovered arms, he had been letting them breathe recently—he didn't like the looks he'd get, but the bandages...

They itched.

"Please Maria."

She took one of his hands in hers and nodded; she could feel the difference in texture against her arm as they pressed together.

Yeah, she could withhold on the posting for awhile.

But the statuses were staying, those wouldn't be going anywhere.


	44. Happy Tauradonna Day

It was easy.

 It was so _so_ easy now.

Now that those first few years were behind them and the _awkwardness_ of it all came undone. There was a familiarity now in each touch and glance. Each smile and step. Blake watched him talk to the others; the older kids just like him. They were street kids and Faunus too but Blake wasn’t completely sure if they liked her or not.

She grabbed a handful of the back of his shirt and tucked her head back into the cloth. She was tired and cold and Adam promised her he’d find them something special to eat today. The older child made _money_ —Blake could hardly believe it.

The brown haired bull faunus bid the others farewell and reached around to grab the girl’s hand. “Let’s go get something to eat, okay?” Blake could only nod and huddle against his arm for comfort. She didn’t want to leave their hideout—their little den. She just wanted it to be the two of them all today; no one else.

But Adam promised her something special and Blake believed him.

The older child guided them towards a bakery, the smells of sweets and rising dough filled her nostrils. Her heart ached of a time long ago when these smells weren’t so uncommon. And when Adam led her into the store and then to the counter where he pointed out a nice rich cinnamon roll Blake’s eyes watered.

Adam paid and took the box from the man behind the counter, his eyes grim as the children turned and left just as quickly as they came. Adam guided her around the corner and held out the box towards her, “Happy Anniversary, Blake.”

Blake’s lip quivered and her eyes watered, “h-happy anniversary to you too, Adam.”

So maybe it wasn’t as easy as she thought, maybe it’ll take another year or two until she could be the one that’ll wake up in the morning and wish him a happy anniversary. Maybe it wasn’t as easy as she thought but that didn’t mean she didn’t love him any less.


	45. Over The Rushing Waves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That long awaited Mermaid AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 20819 words. Kinda sorta edited, i missed some of the last part (i think).  
> I'm just going to say rated M. There is sexual themes and nudity. 
> 
> A random ship that I threw in here because I had fun:  
> Coco/White Fang LT

She felt like she was sinking and she could only assume that she was. The weight pressing in around her and squeezing the oxygen from her lungs—she didn’t have the energy to swim, nor the energy to open her eyes.

Behind the safety of her eyelids, her eyes flickered back and forth—there were shapes moving in the water around her. She could feeling it... she could the pressure against her lips before a presence pushed its way past and down to her lungs.

The weight was no longer pressing in around her, but the weight of something... of _someone_ still remained. She peeled her golden coloured eyes open; the salt in the water stung at her injures, at her eyes.

It was a body that was pulling her through water. She wanted to open her mouth to _do something_ , anything really, but she was just _so extremely tired_. She couldn’t see pass the crown of blood-red coral on the body’s head. The crown arching up into horns that her people would compare to the Devil, colour so extremely sinister and frightening that she was surprised her heart didn’t lurch. Deep red eyes bore into her, and her eyes began to grow heavy again.

The dark welcomed her again; the weight of arms around her pulled her through the water, the body moving in motions she wasn’t familiar with.

She woke up with the water lapping at her waist, black hair filled with sand and swept out around her in a halo of ink. Her stomach lurched, pulling bile up her throat and onto the sand. She grimaced, the water and stomach acid mixed into a disgusting dark green goo that sprayed out into her hair. She gagged again at the image.

She forced herself into movement; a slow and painful crawl towards the water where she quickly submerged her entire being into the shallows. Sucking in a breath when she surfaced again; golden irises scanning the environment she found herself in.

It was beautiful, in a strange and new way. There seemed to be no way in or out of the cove from land; the beach completely hidden from the outside world. She would go so far as to say that the only way in and out of this place was underwater. Turning away from the water she noted a decent grouping of trees and vegetation.

No animals though.

Wading out of the shallows, the woman tossed the heavy jacket from her shoulders and onto a growing pile. Her pistols, knives and sword were quickly tossed onto the pile as well. The gun powder useless now that it was wet and the blades were making her tire quicker than she’d like. She adjusted her breasts in her corset, returning the flesh to a more comfortable position.

It looks like she was stranded here for the time being; she had no idea just how long it would take her to leave this place. She had no idea what happened to her other crewmates, nor the Captain. But if the fiery explosion in her memory hinted at anything, then they might not be faring as well as she.

There was a splash from the water behind her and she quickly turned, hand poised over her hip only to remember that she removed her steel moments ago. There was a large swordfish sitting on the bank a few meters from where she had woken, large red gashes were taken out of the fish’s hide and she returned her gaze to the water.

A dark dorsal fin unlike anything she had ever seen emerged followed by a seemingly never ending line of spikes and ridges before it dipped back into the dark waters of the cove. That was not a fish, shark, or dolphin—that tail was too abnormal for any of that. Like a mixture of a shark’s dorsal fins but the hide of an alligator.

The woman made her way towards the underbrush, pulling at twigs and fallen branches before pulling them back towards the sand. If that fish was left there for her consumption by some strange fish creature then she was going to be sure to eat it—didn’t want to possibly insult the thing when she had no way out of this place but the water.

She returned to her fallen jacket and knives where she fished out the flint in one of the inside pockets of her jacket before grabbing the dagger. She returned to her wood pile where she quickly organized it into a proper fire starter. Pressing the blade against the flint and pulling downwards—cursing the three times the wood wouldn’t catch or the one time the blade nicked her nail.

Eventually the wood caught aflame and the woman sighed heavily. She tossed the flint back towards the pile of clothing and made her way to the large fish. Stabbing into the carcass, she began to pull strips from it. She didn’t care much about the taste at the moment, more concerned about getting it into her stomach before her body decided to fight against her again.

Settling into the sand, the woman held one of the fish chunks that she had skewered on her dagger over the flame until it was cooked enough. She bit into the meat, tearing the thing apart with an appetite she wasn’t aware she had. She quickly added another chunk from the little pile in her arm onto her dagger and repeated the process three more times until her stomach felt heavy and content.

She grabbed her gear still in a pile by the water, dipping her jacket into the surf then pulling it back out and making her way towards a low hanging branch in the underbrush to throw it over.

The water behind her splashed again and she turned quickly towards it. She was greeted with red—a blood red colour bleeding into brown. She slowly made her way back to the water to try to catch a glimpse what the red coral was connected to. All she got was a glimpse of dorsal fin and more dark spikes.

She sighed heavily, flopping back into the sand and stared up at the cloudless sky. Thinking back to the night before—the ship was under fire. Rival pirates in the area where trying to steal their sailing grounds, the Captain gave the command to steer them into dangerous waters—legendary waters that no sailor liked to travel. The ship was still under fire and there was a huge explosion that knocked her overboard.

She remembered sinking—remembered drowning.

She snapped her eyes open and quickly looked around. She was still here. It was still mid-day and the world was passing her by far too slowly. She spared a glance to the sword fish to her left... the sword fish to her left. She sat up with a fright; where did the giant fish go?

How did she not hear the thing get dragged back into the depths of the ocean?

She left her spot in the sand to throw more wood on the fire. She should really take this opportunity to explore her surroundings. Gather more wood or maybe some edible berries or something, also—fresh water. She couldn’t exactly drink the stuff in the cove, unless it was some type of magical water that was in fact not salt water.

She grabbed her sword and set off into the trees.

...

She returned just as the sun was beginning to dip down towards the ring encircling the hidden cove. She really was stuck in here with the only exit being through the water. Where the strange fish creature was...

She did find some fresh water though but she wasn’t too sure on how _fresh_ it actually was. But beggars can’t be choosers so she drank her fill and filled up her water pouch; that should last her until she returns the next day. On her way back she found some tree fruit and gathered a small bunch of bananas.

She returned to her little base camp with her hands filled with wood and bananas. The fire from before had long died out and she had expected that.

Setting her finds down either by the other pile of wood or near her jacket, the woman pulled out her flint and dagger and repeated the process of lighting another fire—that one catching quicker than its predecessor. Rubbing her hands together as she watched the flame grow with each branch and twig added, until logs were placed and the sky was falling to darkness.

Her heart thundered in her chest with each passing moment that the environment around her fell to night, the stars overhead beginning to peak out and sparkled. There was a humming coming from the water—a deep bass-y tone that shook her to the core.

She glanced away from the fire and into deep red irises. She sucked in a breath of shock and the humming continued as the creature bobbed in the water. It moved closer before pushing further back again. She crawled towards the water line and the figure followed her lead.

“You’re the one that brought me here,” she finally spoke, fingers sinking to cool tide. The light of the fire behind her bounced off his crown of deep red coral yet only showing the shine of the water against his ebony scales. Like the black scales absorbed the light and refused to share it with anything else.

The scales framed his light gray skin around his eyes. His forehead covered in sharp deep black scales that crept down the back and side of his neck and over his shoulders. The spikes only grew the further they traveled down the creature. He had a face and chest so similar to that of a human, only larger in size and covered in dark scales. He had other markings sweeping over his body, a bright white in contrast to his colouring.

_They must be some sort of tribal markings._

The creature chuckled, and even that had a deep bass ring to it. Like everything that escaped this creature’s mouth could be used as a song. She gulped—she knew exactly what kind of creature this was.

Every place called them something different—sirens, sea dragons, fae of the sea, a nymph... merfolk.

She had heard story upon story about a man who wished to make a mermaid a right wife out of her. Heard it so often that she stopped rolling her eyes at the notion—and not because she believed ‘im, but because they’d roll right out of her head if she did it anymore. “You’re aware of my kind,” the male spoke sending a shiver down her spine.

She could only nod in reply as she watched creature advance closer to shore.

“And yet you hide that fear well,” he grinned showing off sharp teeth. Of course he could sense just have terrified she was, wasn’t that always the case with those rumored supernatural beings? He hummed another musical note, “I won’t hurt you.”

His eyes called to her like rubies, she crawled out into the water—the waves not registering in her senses. She continued to wade out into the surf, until she stood rooted on her feet with the water just past her waist. The creature grinned its sharp toothed grin, black scaled claws wrapping around the back of her cloth covered thigh and pulling her in closer. She startled under the touch, golden eyes blinking the daze away.

She wasn’t aware of her body’s movement until that moment; those eyes drew her in, captivating her. The creature grinned, his hands caressing the back on her knees. She stumbled backwards at the pressure, knees buckled and feet sliding in the sand as she tried to regain her footing again.

She slipped under the water, heart jumping in her throat as she resurfaced with a gasp. Those deep red eyes much closer now that her head was only above water, the creature’s claws trailed over her arms now. From elbow to wrist, the sharp texture of his scales making the hair rise on her arms and the back of her neck.

The creature spoke in what she could only assume was his mother tongue, the words far too musical compared to anything she had ever heard before. His claws wrapped around her fingers and he began to pull her towards deeper waters. She pulled back; the panic making itself known as she pushed away from the creature. “What are you doing?” she worried, watching as the creature’s brow climbed up and his deep red eyes roll in annoyance.

“Swim,” he replied in her language, taking hold of the woman’s hands again and pulling her forwards with a stronger grip than before. Her heart lurched, pressing up against her ribcage. “I won’t hurt you,” he repeated once her feet stopped dragging against the sand. She could feel his tail brush against her boot. The appendage easily longer than her whole body, longer in fact, and all covered in the same dark scales and spikes. He pulled her closer towards him, laying her hand on his shoulder where she gripped the ridges arching up out of skin.

He hummed, pressing a hand to the small of her back and pulling her under the water with him. His lips pressing against hers, his free hand taking hold of her chin and forced her mouth open. She felt the same presence as the night before enter her body. She could see his eyes dilate into slits now that both of their eyes where open and staring at the other. His brow rose as he pulled away from her, his black tongue licking his lips.

“ **Relax, little Brizo,** ” the language wasn’t familiar but she understood it. She understood every word that rolled off that black tongue of his. But her name wasn’t that of a Greek goddess long past, she was no goddess of sailors or a maiden of the sea. She was a human, a pirate, and a woman who found herself in the clutches of a merman under the water’s surface.

“That is not my name,” the water didn’t clog her airway nor limit any breathing. Her vision had also changed; the water no longer dark and frightening and the creature no longer a colourless shape blending in with the shadows. She could see each dip and swoop of his scales... could see the clash of white on black of the tribal marking decorating his every inch of his body. “What did you do to me?” she spoke again, still shocked that she wasn’t choking.

The creature guided her to the sand, where it took to hold her against with hand on her waist, “ **your kind likes to refer to it as a mermaids’ kiss**.” The creature grinned, “ **But I am no maid**.” He removed his hand from her, taking up a lazing position on the sand beside her. Her body began to float upwards—he rolled his eyes, returning his hand to its earlier placement.

“You’re not speaking my language,” she concluded ignoring that last part. She already assumed that he was male; she had never seen such an angular—masculine—face such like that belonging to a woman. “And yet,” she narrowed her eyes at his face, “I understand everything you’re saying.”

The creature laughed, “ **Clever little fleshling. It’s true I’m not speaking your language but mine. That kiss allows it—understanding the speech of the sea, and breathing underwater.** ” He leaned in, bumping his nose against hers, “ **all temporary. And vomiting up the sea water that’s bound to have found its way into your lungs is a small side affect.** ”

She pushed his face away from her, “excuse me? Is that what that goo was?” The whites of his eyes flashed black at the hand still in his face. She brought it quickly back to her chest where her heart thundered in her chest. She wondered if he could hear it.

She turned her attention away from the creature and towards the sky that reflected through the water. It was beautiful, but the stars always were. “Does it always look like this?” she gestured at the stars, the water, _everything_.

He followed her gaze, shrugging when she caught his gaze. “ **Every so often a star dies,** ” he turned his attention back towards the stars.

“That’s impossible,” she huffed pulling away from him and swimming along the sand. Her temperature was starting to grow a little too chilled for her comfort.

The creature hummed, following from above. “ **Your kind has a shorter lifespan than mine,** ” he expressed. She could _hear_ the roll of his eyes; that unnerved her. She was growing used to this being; it was too early for that kind of thoughts and feelings. She was still so terrified of him and everything that their flesh-eating, soul-sucking kind stood for.

“Then how old are you?” she used her hands and arms to keep her seated on the ocean floor—pushing and fighting against her body’s buoyancy. The creature arched his torso down, rolling his shoulders and neck in a lazed predatory-like way. Reaching out as he circled her, her fingers trailed over his tail to the caudal fin. She didn’t notice the second dorsal fin until now for it was only slightly larger than the biggest spike that arched from his seemingly endless hide.

The whites of his eyes returned to black when he finally turned back to face her, laying a hand on each knee to keep her rooted to the sand. “ **We age differently that you.** ” His head tilting from side to side like he was taking her in from different angles, “ **your kind goes by years. Right? Months falling within seasons?** ”

She nodded.

He hummed deep in his throat, “ **We go by maturity cycles. From conceivement our kind is considered to be a living being. Actual birth defers with each type of merfolk; it may take one water cycle, or as you call years, or more. Then pups or guppies, adolescence,** ” his speech cut off into something she couldn’t understand.

She blinked, “what was that?” she asked.

The creature frowned, repeating the word again. It was just another mess of musical notes and pitches.

She shook her head, “I don’t understand.”

He huffed rolling his dark red eyes, “sexual maturity—for a lack of a better term. It’s when our kind typically find a mate.” Her language flowed so easily out of the creature’s lips and off his tongue. “ **It sounds too simplified in your speak,** ” and there it was. Right back to using his own language.

She rolled her eyes at him, flopping back into the sand. The creature shifted through the water until his head and blood red crown blocked out the sky. “How does that thing not fall off?” she reached up to tap one of the huge horns twisting up and out of the crown. He tilted his head towards her; she had originally thought that the head piece was made from coral, but the texture wasn’t like anything she’s ever felt before. “What is this made out of?” she wrapped her fingers around the horn, pulling at it gently

He winced, “its fashioned around some pre-existing scales. Then there’s a band wrapping around my head that helps take some of the weight off.”

She forced his head from side to side to take a look at the make. She could see the band that he was talking about; it was easily over looked with how his hair fanned out and covered it. “What does that mean?” she leaned in closer and shifted out from underneath him as to get an overhead view. She couldn’t even see his hair line, let alone these supposed scales.

“It means that when this was made, it was meant to slip over and hook into the pre-existing scales and,” he paused to think of a proper word, “horns.” He removed her hands from his head, pushing upwards to the water surface. She was towed along by the claws wrapped around her wrist.

She breached with a large intake of breath followed by a cough—dispelling the salt water that must have settled in her lungs. His arms around her waist kept her afloat as she continued to cough up another lungful of water.

“Why did we surface?” she croaked.

They floated slowly towards the shore, “your time was almost up.” He dropped her off as soon as her feet were able to remain flat against the sand.

“How long does it last?”

The creature grinned, “A couple of hours.” Her eyes widened, suppressing a shiver that dared to form.  They were under water for a _long_ time and it only felt like a couple of minutes... maybe an hour at the most. He dipped his head under the water, tail splashing the water as he settled into a more comfortable position.

“I don’t even know your name,” she informed him as soon as his head peaked back out of the water.

He grinned, “I don’t know yours either.” He pushed up out of water, his face so extremely close to hers. She thought these creatures tore the flesh from men, and ripped the soul from a living being. This merman only seemed to want to constantly touch her.

“Blake,” he titled his head in confusion at the name rolling off her tongue, “my name is Blake.”

The whites of his eyes shifted back in black and he hummed deep in his throat; the note vibrating in her stomach. His grin grew as he dipped back into the water and pushed off away from her—the black shape of his tail sinking into the depths.

He didn’t resurface again; she pushed out with a flat hand causing the water to splash and spray out. “You didn’t answer my question!” she shouted to his memory, a hard frown molding her features. When he didn’t surface she growled out, “typical man! No different in any race!”

She turned, wading back to shore angrily. Mythical creature or not, she was going to smack that fish tomorrow. Even if it was the last damn thing she did.

...

He didn’t show his face for two days but she’d find an assortment of fish left for her in a sac (and that one deer spread out in the sand). In this sac she pulled out a few gold coins, rolling one between her fingers and over the knuckles. Rolling her eyes, she tossed the coins back into the bag. The gold was useless here, but if she was out of this place than it might just be of some use.

She tossed the gold back towards her clothes before wadding back out into the water. Every day she would dive into the water and swim for as long as she could. Each time she’d try to hold her breath for longer and longer, and each time she only lasted for the same amount of time before she had to go back up for air.

She dove under the water, kicking her feet and pushing her arms forward. She wanted to go into the deeper section of the cove, where the water stopped being crystal clear and sunk into a deep blue. Following the dip in the sand towards darker water; she startled, oxygen escaping her lungs when the creature popped out of the dark.

His scaled arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her towards the surface. She coughed, hacking up the water she swallowed in her fright. He took her in with a furrowed brow, leaning as far back as he could while keeping his arms around her waist. “So this is what a human female looks like,” an eyebrow arched upwards as he studied her.

She pushed herself out of his hold, “it’s impolite to ogle a woman while she’s naked!” She slapped her hand against his light coloured chest, his eyes growing dark. Feeling his tail brush against her bare calf, reminding her just what she was planning on doing just then. Intrusting herself to him for a moment, she stopped treading water to grab each side of his face and kissing him.

She didn’t feel the pressure that normally came behind the kiss. Maybe she had to open her mouth—his pupils dilated, and the sclera still matching the colour of his scales. He raised a brown brow at her, “I have to kiss you for it to work.” 

 He saw through her.

“Well then, get to the kissing. I have stuff to explore,” she kept her hands pressed against his cool cheeks. She shut her eyes at the feeling of his lips pressed against hers, even as she quickly opened them. What she wasn’t expecting was his tongue against the roof of her mouth and flicking at the back of her teeth. She jolted back in shock, “what was that for?”

Finger nails digging into the hide on his shoulders, the same ones that rolled smugly. “Consider it payback,” he leaned again, showing off his pointed teeth.

“What about those other two times then, huh?”

He frowned, “I saved your life with the first one.” Okay, she’d give him that one but not the other one. She told him that, watching a pout begin to form on his lips before the roll of the eyes set in and his expression switched into annoyed. His clawed hand tangled into the hair at her nape, pulling her down into the water after him.

Their lips pressed against the other’s, mouths opening and the presence returned—trailing down through her throat and into her lungs and belly. “Don’t swim behind me, you pervert,” he rolled his eyes at her warning taking them towards the darker part of the cove.

“ **Technically, I’m naked as well,** ” he grinned pushing off of her and taking to swim on ahead. From this position she noticed a few scars on his caudal fin as well as both dorsal fins. It was so subtle that she wasn’t surprised that she missed it before; most of them were covered in his tribal markings as it was.

“You have that headgear on, so no you’re not.” He stared back at her, one brow cocking further than the other. “You never told me what it’s called,” she pointed out. She had three things that she needed to do today; find out about his weird crown, explore the darker part of the cove, and figure out his damn name.

“ **There are no words that translate into your known vocabulary. It’s a material found in only the darkest parts of the ocean, most of our kind don’t dwell that far.** ” That explanation didn’t help anything.

“So everything that you’re saying is in your own language but I can only understand it because there’s a translation for it in mine?” She was surprised that she was only grasping this now, it makes sense though. At times his speech was awkward and some words weren’t exactly _right_.

She took his silence with being correct.

The creature turned to throw a look over his shoulder. “Blake,” her name rolling off his tongue in her own language made her halt. He looked to be tossing a notion of _something_ around in his head, shaking off the thought before pausing again to study her. “ **Tomorrow I’d like to show you something.** ”

The serious look in his eyes kept her from saying _fuck it, show me now_. She nodded instead.

...

He beached himself to watch her set up her fire on throw on her clothes. His tail swaying back and forth in the tide, no splash or sound escaped him. It reminded her of a cat with his deep red eyes following her every movement and tail flicking. He lay there propped up on his elbows, head tilting to the side in his confusion.

She was finding it easier to decipher that look. He gave her that one and the black-eyed look the most. She had yet to really find out what that last one meant though.

“What’s your name?” she finally asked, now that he was good and stuck. She had the feeling that the creature didn’t want her to know it and that only made her want to know more. She was a pirate after all, it was in her nature.

“You won’t be able to pronounce it.”

She dropped to the sand in front of him, taking his head in her hands and glared at him. Again his eyes darkened, “I didn’t ask if I could pronounce it. I asked for your name.”

 His pupils dilated, “how about you give me one instead.”

Grinding her teeth in annoyance, she removed her hands from him and took to walking back towards the fire. If this guy wanted her to name him than so be it! Throwing another log onto the fire just to displace some frustration, “at least tell me what letter or sound your name starts with.”

He replied back in the bass musical voice of his; the sound so unique that the only thing she could pick out of it was a weird version of the letter A. She watched the smug look form on his face, knew it was exactly like he said—she wouldn’t be able to pronounce it. She wanted to throw the stick that she had in her hand at him.

Turning back to the fire to poke at the now burning log she’d just thrown in. She thought hard for a name that was both simple and meaningful of the creature. “Adam,” she finally turned back to look at him, “I’ll call you Adam.”

He tilted his head in confusion.

She continued on, “it means of the red earth.” Well, she didn’t lie. The creature seemed to only raise a brow at the meaning but not raising any fuss as a clawed finger continued drawing something in the sand.

...

The next day found her in one of the many cave systems under the land surrounding the cove. It was amazing just how many twists and passages there were. How Adam knew his way around here was a mystery.

The ‘thing’ that he wanted to show her were multiple things in fact, making the sea dragon’s name relevant all over again. It was a hoard unlike anything she had seen. There was gold and gems, but also big chunks of the material that made up Adam’s crown. There were a few skeletons sitting in the corner, a small pile that she refused to look at.

Adam dug through the largest pile of gems and gold, the rich purples and reds drawing her attention. He pulled out a satchel filled with amethysts, running a clawed thumb over the purple gem before taking her hand and setting the gem in it. “ **You said you liked purple,** ” was his only excuse.

She didn’t question it, not verbally at least, but in the safety of her own mind she kept wondering why he would give her all these things. The gold, the gems, and the food... He brought her back a deer! A deer! That had to take a long time to catch. And let’s not even get her started on the touching and personal space violations.

“I do,” she finally replied curling her fingers around the glittering gem. Adam pushed off deeper into the cave, pushing her back into the largest pile of his hoarded glittering objects. “I like red too,” she added as she settled back into his collection.

A grin pulled at his lips showing off the sharp teeth hidden behind. Sinking down into the pile by her stretching arms out in front of him; like a cat, she couldn’t help but muse with a grin.

“Do you not lay on your back at all?” she questioned watching him shift onto his side.

“ **Dorsal fin won’t allow it. If I damage it I’ll swim weird until it’s healed, and even that needs to be seen to by healers—it’s not even a guarantee that I’ll be able to swim like I should.** ”

She could only hum in reply; she couldn’t pretend to understand it, nor did she want to seem uninterested. She tapped the center plate of his headpiece, following the shape down till the light gray skin of his nose where she noticed the first facial scar. Felt it more than saw in all actuality. She paused her downward movement to gauge the texture and lean in to see if there was any difference in colouring.

There was a slight change; gray skin growing lighter where the groves that the scarring was.

Continuing her exploration of his face she found another scar right near the tip of his nose, one running horizontal from brow to cheek on the left side and on the opposite there were two in the same location only running diagonal. She wonder just how tough his skin was and how quickly merfolk heal.

Adam pecked the corner of her lips, jolting her out of her musing and back to the moment. The sound that tumbled out of his mouth couldn’t translate, “ **—let’s make our way back to the surface.** ” She stared in confusion trying to piece together what she had missed, but wrapped an arm around his neck so he could swim them back to the cove.

It would be a lot quicker this way.

And it was—her first inhale of breath after who knows long was always cut short by the lung full of water she coughed up afterwards. It always hit her like a punch in the gut; so sudden and harsh. “Don’t chuckle at me, fish-boy” she leaned down to press her forehead against his headpiece.

Clawed fingers pulling and grasping at that back of her clothed knees; he was raising her upwards until both knees dug into what she could only assume were his hips. She adjusted her hold until one hand was buried in his hair and the other gripping one of the spikes that pierced out of his shoulder for balance.

He smiled, glancing down before up through his lashes—she couldn’t help but give him a small smile of her own. “You can always never come up for air again—become a mermaid,” he tossed the idea so easily. Almost like he’s come to the conclusion long ago that this was what would happen.

She’d get addicted to breathing underwater, get addicted to the feeling of _true_ freedom—that even as a pirate she could not find. She loved the sea; it called to her every day and night. And here was this creature of the sea tempting her with the idea of becoming one with the ocean and... and why couldn’t she jump at the chance?

Her promise she made with her sisters—for her niece.

She was on her way back to port to deliver the money her family needed. It would’ve been her biggest haul... it would’ve lasted her family for at least a year.

She couldn’t leave them like that—couldn’t leave them with nothing. But she couldn’t turn down the opportunity like this. “Ask me again at a different time,” she whispered before leaning in to seal their lips together in a quick kiss.

He didn’t bring the question up for the remainder of the evening.

...

He was back to drawing on the sand—shapes that would fit together before he would brush them away and start all over again. “I’ll be gone for a few days,” he told her, not even looking up from his sand drawings.

She flopped back in the sand, “why’s that?” The sun was finally setting on another day spent in the cove. This one held no underwater adventures, only some lazy swimming and a lot of a beached merman.

“Scouting party—a strange tide is washing in and the elders are growing concerned.”

So there was a whole civilization that had leaders and class-types. She filled this piece of information away for later. “Well, bring me back something fancy—got it?” She turned to waggle her finger in front of his face.

Adam snorted, a little grin forming.

...

She hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Adam for what she could only assume was a week—time seemed to pass weird now that she was by herself. She’d wake up to find a pouch of fish on the shore each and every morning with no explanation as to who put it there. Maybe Adam had asked one of the other fish-folk from his... group? Pod? Clan? Maybe all of the above? She had no idea what to refer to a group of merfolk, nor did she know who was providing her with her meat intake but she appreciated it all the while.

She had a lot of time to think of her next plan of action; she had plenty of time to go over what she would say and how she would say it. She was going to go home; back to her two sisters and her niece. She was going to give them the money she promised and then she’d give them her farewells—join the see like every damn pirate wanted to do.

She had the words on the tip of her tongue as she waded out into the water, his blood red crown shining out in the setting sun. She had the words right there... and then he clipped the necklace around her throat and everything dried up.

She had seen him drawing these in the sand—the center piece matching the colour of his crown with a thick band of gold with a pair of amethysts framing the red. She rubbed her thumb over the center stone; inside there seemed to be a small flame flickering and she wasn’t sure if it was the light that was making it seem like it or if there was actually something there.

“It’s the best I’d be able to give you,” his voice was soft, shy even, as he watched her take the accessory. “You said you liked purple,” he continued now swaying in the coming tide. She noticed the matching necklace around his own neck—though the flicker of light in the center of his red gem was non-existent.

“I love it,” she finally caught her voice. She smiled, “thank you Adam.”

Maybe she should wait until the next day to ask him to take her back to shore. Back to the world outside these walls of earth and through the cave systems underwater—back to her family that needed her and were waiting for her.

He surged up out of the water, holding the back of her neck as he pressed his lips against hers. She could feel him quake with the effort that it took to maintain this position—she leaned towards him, pushing him back into the water. “You’re going to strain yourself if you do that for too long,” she scolded.

He huffed, pushing backwards into deeper water.

“I’m serious! Didn’t you _just_ come back from some scouting mission? I’m willing to bet that you kill at least one thing out there,” she batted the clawed hands that went and made grabby hands at her. She could swim out the rest of the way on her own, thanks.

He rolled his shoulder, not admitting or denying that he might have killed something or not.

...

The next day neither felt like exploring the cave systems or lazing around in water. He wanted to run his hands up her sides and kiss her with every chance he could get.

She wasn’t against this idea either—it’ll be easy to blurt out what she needed to say. She could distract him kisses before and after her request.

The water pulled her loose hair up with tide before settling back down by her shoulders as the water settled back again. She was impressed just how gentle he was being, how hardly any of his weight was pressed on her even though half of his torso was on top of her. “I need to go home,” she finally muttered out between kisses.

He pulled away, brows drawn in confusion. He didn’t say anything so she continued.

“I need to get back to shore, I have to make sure my sisters and my niece is alright. I—” she licked her lips, “I need to be able to say goodbye to them.”

He propped himself up, “what?”

“I’m taking up the offer that you gave me—the one to become like you.” It dawned on him then, his tail smacking down into the water in a briefly uncontrolled glee and her hand moved to cover his mouth before he could cut her off. “I just need to say my farewells first and then I’ll be back.”

“We can leave right now,” he mumbled behind her hand.

She shook her head, “I was thinking of continuing what we were doing moments ago for the rest of today.” His face softened and she could feel the corner of his lip pull up into a lopsided grin, she pulled her hand away to make sure. Yup, still the same little grin. “Stop smiling like that,” she pushed at his chest.

...

It was a far swim from the cove that she was tucked away in. They left late in the night, and even with the fish her heighten sight couldn’t make out where she was going deeper in the cave. She was completely left to his devises—he was the one that was swimming, he was the one that could see.

He lingered in the shallows as she waded up to shore. “There’s a huge trade route that runs through here,” he said. She remembered this collection of islands, there’s good hunting on this island. One of her Captain had loved the island next to this for its deer meat. She wouldn’t be surprised it some of the other ships that her ship used to be allied with were in the area. They must have heard about the Phantom Liana by now.

“I’ll start building a fire now.” He hesitated, the conflicting emotions so extremely strong in his expression, “I’ll be fine. What song should I sing when I come back so you know it’s me?” She smiled, trying to lessen his conflict.

“Red Horizon,” he replied... and she didn’t really know that song. She knew the tune of it, but the song was scarcely sung onboard ships. It was a bad omen, the song was said to call in death and bloodshed so no one would sing it. She nodded though, watching the crown of red finally dip back down into the water and vanish from sight.

...

It took her three days to be found and it took her another month to make it back to Arkos Port. A month of threatening the fingers of men who waggled them a little too close to her for comfort. Two men were missing middle fingers and she couldn’t find any fucks to give them. She warned them multiple times and yet they still kept trying—men can be stupid like that sometimes.

Her pockets _tinked_ with the sound of gold, and she could already see one of the pickpockets’ ears perk up at the sound. She needed to keep their eyes and ears away from her haul stashed away in her satchel. Now that’s where the true collection of her riches were hidden. She flashed her pistol as she adjusted her heavy jacket, eyebrow rising in a challenge. They didn’t take her up on her offer, but pickpockets were never the bravest of bunch when it came to head to head situations. They’d much rather work in the space behind her back.

There wasn’t much in the expansion of the city that she could see—roads still covered in cobblestone and buildings still stunning roman beige to go with the architecture. On the hill still sat Nikos manor, and deep in the heart of the city still sat the huge gladiator ring that had just been re-commissioned. She quickly ducked down the alley to her right before hooking a sharp left.

She hated going to her family’s home through the front way. She wasn’t exactly a welcomed sight, being a pirate and all. This way meant that it was less likely for someone of authority to spot her and take her in.

She was carrying too much money to be caught now.

Slipping out of one alley before making her way into the other, she quickly spared a glance over her shoulder. If she remembered everything correctly she’d have to make two right turns, a left, another right and one more left before she’d reach her goal. She didn’t glance down at the squishing sounds that her boots made on the stones—she really didn’t want to see what was on the ground.

Kicking a rat off her shoe, she continued down her last right turn fingers fanned out as she shimmied through the tight space. Did she gain some weight in that cove or something? Or was it just her breasts? The last left turn didn’t open up any more room so she had to continue to shimming through the opening until the mouth of the alley was just within her reach.

She had to pry herself from the mouth of the entryway; rubbing her tender chest in an attempt to rid herself the ache. “Blake?” she glanced up and towards the sound, a deep brown haired woman waved her over from the bar.

She waved back at the woman, “Trisha!” she called back taking the brown haired woman into a tight hug.

Trisha kissed each of her cheeks, “Rose and I were growing worried!” the barmaid exclaimed cupping Blake’s cheeks. “It’s been nearly five months since you were supposed to return, what happened?”

Blake took her sister’s hand in hers and pulled her back into the bar that she had just left—the Belladonna household was living above the bar. This bar had been in the family since Great-Grandaddy won it from the Nikos family. “I have some things to discuss with you and Rose,” she voiced rounding the corner of the bar; folding open the wooden opening and wincing slightly at the loud bang that followed when the heavy piece of wood slammed against the bar.

A couple of patrons jolted at the sound, their eyes snapping to Blake and her outfit. She had her jacket back on and covering her form from their drunken leering, and she most likely looked absolutely foul. All that salt water and rolling around in the sand that she had done must not have done her skin or hair much good. And that month on that ship—nor there was a ship that was filthy. “Auntie Blake!” the young lady behind the counter grinned at her as she took the coins from the patron.

She was a little girl the last time Blake had seen her. “You’ve grown since we’ve last met,” Blake ruffled her hair before leaning over to kiss the exposed skin on her forehead. “Your mother upstairs?” the girl’s smile faded as she nodded. It seems like the girl’s mother hadn’t faired any better in health since Blake had left. Blake nodded, “your Aunt and I need to talk to your Mum for a bit. You alright to mind the place?”

The girl nodded, glancing quickly towards her other Aunt (the woman nodded). Both Trisha and Blake took to the stairs leading to the floor above this, their boots clicking against the wooden floor as they passed through the open floor plan and into the room that belonged to Rose. Rose was the eldest Belladonna child and mother to Lena.

“Blake,” the woman smiled tiredly from under the covers. She looked pale—paler than normal. Blake hated seeing her sister like this; it was a constant image throughout her childhood. She feared that Rose would not have made it, but she did and now Blake feared that the woman would die before Lena was ready. “You’ve come home,” she cupped Blake’s cheek and Blake couldn’t help but shake her head. The house—this city was never her home.

Her home was with the sea, with the rolling waves pushing against the wood of the ship and the salt water spraying against her skin.  Her home was with the sea, it always had been. When she was tinny she would always be found walking along the shore picking up shells and swimming in the tide. Her family was what kept her grounded, boarded to the land, her family kept her from fully dipping into the sea and never returning.

She pulled the satchel from over her head, the pulled the bags of coins from her pockets. “I came to say good-bye,” she set her finds in the eldest woman’s lap. Blake couldn’t hold her sister’s gaze; she knew that she was being selfish, selfish to want to leave and never return to this place. But she couldn’t take it, not when she knew what was out there—not after knowing the affects of freely swimming for the rest of her life.

“What do you mean?” Trisha pulled at her shoulder, forcing the youngest Belladonna daughter to look at her. “What the _hell_ —what are you going to do, huh? Where will you go?”

The necklace hung heavy around her neck, the center jewel flickered from whatever light source that the thing produced. Blake spent many nights studying it and trying to figure out why it flickers and glows like it does. She settled by just saying it was a mer-folk thing so she could limit the headache she felt. “On one last sail,” she smiled almost goofily—like some idiot hopelessly in love.

Trisha pulled her hand away from Blake, cradling it to her chest. She’s seen that look on Rose’s face when she had met Lena’s father; she had seen that look every time the elder woman would even _think_ of the man that ran out on this family to sail ships. And even now, now that he’s returned to this city and now dressing up in a military uniform he would scarcely support his wife and child. “Who is this person?” Trisha couldn’t help but snarl the question out. She couldn’t lose Blake (not level-headed Blake) to some _love_.

Her tanned cheeks flushed and she glanced towards the window, “you wouldn’t believe me even if I told you about him.” The door to Rose’s bedroom pushed open, the hinges creaking and Lena’s face then body joined the three Belladonnas in the room, “Len—”

“A merman right?” she played with the jewels around her wrist. “From the North—skin gray with black scales, right?” Blake stood from the bed, taking a couple of steps to her niece. Lena tapped at her collar, where Blake’s necklace would be. Blake glanced down, fingering at the bright red gem. “I didn’t believe her when she said your ship sank... and everything else about _him_ and...” she trailed off glancing down at her boots before quickly snapping her attention back towards her mother, then to her Aunt Trisha, then finally Blake. “Then I saw your necklace and it was just like what she said—it glowed like its _living_.”

Blake’s hands dropped to her sides and she licked her lips.

...

The flowing, colourful fins brushed against his scaled arms and face as the male circled him. Adam swatted at the colourful appendages. A series of harsh words pushed out through Adam’s barred teeth and the colourful merman chuckled, “ **Dude, I don’t understand you’re weird as fuck _ancient Northern_ language. Speak like a proper mer, dude!**”

Adam snarled at Sun—all these mer-folk had the oddest of names down here. So human and... land-ish. They even looked human, with their variations of skin tones ranging from ‘white’ to ‘black’. It’s beige or _light peach_ ; they don’t have a skin colour like snow. Adam knows what snow looks like and these mer’s don’t have skin that reminded him of the snow. Nor was the ‘black’ skin black, it was _dark brown_. Their skin tones didn’t take an unnatural hue to them like the mer’s in the North did—or the rare tribe hidden away deep in the swamps of an island to the South. Their skin did not absorb the light and refuse to release any of it.

“ **Red,** ” and there was that thing too. They couldn’t even pronounce his name let alone speak his native tongue— _their species_ native tongue. Only the elders in the tribe (and the few scholars that pride themselves in speaking a quote and quote ‘ _dead language’_ ) would refer to him by his given name, and even that was few and infrequent now that the tribe took to calling him Red after his eyes and choice of jewelry. “ **Sun. Do I have to go grab Velvet?** ”

At his mate’s name Sun jolted back and out of Adam’s face, his blond hair fanning out as he shook his head. Sage raised a green eye brow at his friend’s action and shared a look with Adam when the male started to sprout excuses as to _why_ the green haired male shouldn’t go tell Velvet. “ **Sun,** ” a female voice purred, her tanned hands trailing up the blond’s side when she and her partner in crime swam up to join the group of three. “ **What’s this about telling Velvet?** ” the brown haired female purred in the blond’s ear, “ **the elders told us not to go into open water. There are no sailors to go seducing to their death either... or are you giving Red a hard time again?** ”

Coco and Velvet were close. Ever since the day that Coco and Fox had traded their human legs for fins, Velvet had taken a shining to the pair (except Sage; can’t really out class someone in the ‘fancying’ department when they’re mated to one of the individuals in question). So once Coco heard something you’d be correct in thinking that Velvet would quickly learn of the subject when the pair would meet up.

“ **No,** ” Sun quickly exclaimed eyes wide and staring out into the open water. He snapped his attention towards Sage and Fox when the smell of blood pierced the water—everyone stared at the pair at the smell. Adam rolled his eyes, of course Fox bit him. _Of course_ , it always happened—that male loved the feeling of flesh between his teeth (liked his flesh between Sage’s as well if all the new and healing skin was anything to go by). “ **Come on! Guys! We’re right here!** ” Sun groaned pressing the palm of his hands against his temple.

“ **Oh don’t be a prude, it’s only a little love nip—you’ve done worse!** ” Coco countered pinching his cheek and pulling.

Adam shook his head, staring out into the open sea—there was something in the currents that still unsettled him. Fox and Sage could feel it; they were part of that hunting party. The feeling felt cool, and the taste of ice water pushing its way past his teeth and settling deep in his stomach did nothing to help pass the feeling of his off as nothing. There was something shifting in the water and Adam was sure what it was yet—but there was something.

And until the elders knew for sure what it was no one was leaving without permission from them, and even then it would be groups of handpicked hunters. Only one small group at a time.

...

"A woman with the last name Arc had help lead a battle when all other lines of defence failed. This woman single handily gathered the remaining men, returning them to the battlefield and she also grabbed King Diodotus' spear which she used to drive into the heart of the war general of the opposition—Lady Arc did all of this while heavily pregnant."

Blake rolled her eyes at her niece’s story.

Lena paused and sighed at the mental image that her mind was no doubt concocting, “And from that day on, they renamed the city Arkos to symbolize the great feat that the woman preformed. Although, their house had never merged they always remained close friends. It isn't until recently that a child from each house had fallen for the other. For the first time in four generations it seems that the houses will finally meet in marriage and later with blood.” She ended with a joyful, childlike, sound of glee her grip on her rag that she was using to dry off the beer mugs clenched tight in her grip.

Blake never cared much about the history behind this city was or even how it came to being. She was more concerned with the waters and how she'd get back into that tide. Lena was the one so focused on history, and stories, and just anything that could spark her imagination. But the invitation that the Belladonnas’ had obtained earlier today had sent the girl into a fit of giggles and squealing—Blake hadn’t the heart to ask her about this ‘Sea-er’ that told her niece about Blake’s Merman.

That’s right, he was _hers_.

Blake wanted to meet this woman that lived by the shore—the one that told the people what ships had crashed, and where the fish would be so the fishermen could find them. Lena had told Blake in whispers that this woman even knew where each ship was located and what country it belonged to. She also explained that the woman could tell who the sea had claimed—weather a person lived or died by _whatever_ cause of the sea (shark attack, mythological creature, canon fire, drowning, etc.).

Blake wanted to meet her—she needed to meet this woman.

But Lena promised to take her _after_ the ball that was being held tomorrow evening. So like the proper aunt that she was, Blake listened.

...

The huge mermaid shook her head, reaching out and cupping her son’s face with her equally large hands. Adam hadn’t seen his mother for a long time—not since the last gathering of elders. And this was what this was. The giant mermaid pressed her lips against the red crown; she always used to kiss his head like this when he was a pup. “ **Listen to the elders,** ” she finally spoke in the common mer-tongue. She was finished telling her son all she could about the top-secrete situation that gathered them all together.

“ **Of course,** ” he replied leaning into her touch. His mother pulled away with a sharp toothed grin tapping against the center jewel of his matestone. She grinned, her dark covered brow rose as she inquired about it. “ **You won’t know her,** ” he replied back in the common tongue. She ran the pad of her thumb over the still jewel; he knew what she’d ask before she even _noticed_ the lack of light. “ **She’s human. She’ll be back to trade her... legs after she bids her family farewell,** ” he nibbled on the inside of cheek, pulling at the skin until the taste of blood appeared.

The scales covering her upper body flared up and she grinned, hugging her son to her chest. Her high pitched laugh rocked her chest as she smushed him in-between her breasts. “ **Like a proper sea dragon!** ” she exclaimed kissing his hair then crown and then finally pulling his face from her chest to lay kisses all over his face.

It was the scales and the less than human appearance that the northern group of merfolks had that earned them the name. Named after land dragons long ago—back when dragons still roamed the Earth. Adam’s heard that dragons no longer fly through the sky like once did, and something about that saddened him. He’s always wanted to see a dragon but their rein had long since passed since his concievement.

The glittering matestone around her neck flickered drawing his attention, “ **How’s Pa?** ” His mother quickly launched into a story about the man, one arm stretched out and making gestures to go along with the stories and one clawed hand still massaging the hairs at the nape of his neck. He laughed along, picturing his father’s face in these situations—the arguments that he had to break up between the Schnee tribe and one of Adam’s brothers.

Seems that one of Adam’s younger brother’s was courting one of the Schnee daughters—Winter. Or something like that—both of the girls had human like names that started with the same sound. The Schnee’s confused him—everything about them was _white_ ; white hair, white scales and skin, and ice blue eyes... some even going so light as white. And by white, Adam means _white like snow_.

None of this beige or peach colouring.

“ **And now I can tell Pa and your siblings about your mateship,** ” she grinned back at him.

...

Lady Arc had a statue in the middle of the grounds on Nikos manor and Blake wondered if the Arc family was embarrassed of it at all. It was a lovely statue of a pregnant Lady Arc with King Diodotus Nikos' spear in one hand, the other pointing forward, and her hair blowing in the wind. It was all extremely dramatic, and Lena was in awe at it all.

They both had their best gowns on—which wasn’t anything fancy in Blake’s case, just a black and white dress with ruffles. It wasn’t even short enough to be of any use on a ship—meaning that her tits were pressed up too high and no man could ogle her legs. And if a man couldn’t ogle your legs, that means you weren’t of much use on deck—Gotta have those babies out and about in the sea air in either pants or something a little more... _shapely_.

They showed off their invitations and were sent into this huge ballroom where people were already dancing and mingling—Blake couldn’t help but roll her eyes. She was a pirate, why the hell was she here again?

Ah, yes.

Lena pulled at her arm and whispered the names of the upperclass in her ear. Giggling when she finally noticed Pyrrha Nikos and Jaune Arc dancing just off center of the dance floor, “It’s said that the only thing that Princess Pyrrha couldn’t do was dance and that Lord Jaune Arc could—better than all six of his sisters combined!”

Blake smiled at her niece; the girl loved the royal family and she loved _gossiping_ about them even more. Normally Blake would be a little more... lively during these conversations, but truthfully she just wanted to meet with this Sea-er woman and be done with it all.

She watched as the bodies on the dance floor swished round and round, the women’s gowns spinning as the pairs glided across the floor. She was never much of a dancer to begin with—certainly not for these ballroom type things either—but she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to dance with Adam.

They must be have their own version of dancing down there.

Elegant swimming possibly?

Lena pulled at her arm, “Auntie Blake, Prince Drakon is looking at you.” Blake could see the awe sparkle in her eyes, and Blake wondered if her sisters ever told Lena about the moment that the Belladonna’s could’ve married into royalty.

If it wasn’t for Blake’s heart already belonging to the sea.

The girl pulled at her arm again and hissed that the Prince was making his way towards them. Blake rolled her eyes at the saunter the man had in his step as he made his way towards them. He crossed a leg over the other and made a show in his large sweeping bow as he kissing at Blake’s knuckles. “Lady Blake Belladonna, it is certainly a surprise,” he said against her hand.

She rolled her eyes, “hello Drakon. I’m engaged.”

She was lying; but it was the only thing she could think to say that would _keep him from making a fool of himself_... **again**.

 He jumped, letting go of her hand as he did. Hands cradled against his chest as he stared at her with a mixture of awe, shock, and just a pinch of anger. Yes, Blake felt like laughing at this situation and everything revolving around it.

As it was already established, the Belladonna’s had won their plot of land from the Nikos family generations ago. Since that time the Nikos’ would send invitations to their events, and every so often a letter or two would be exchanged through the household. It was the Nikos’ way to show that there was, in fact, no ‘hard feelings’ between the families.

And that’s where Drakon made his appearance; the youngest Nikos son (and elder brother to a Pyrrha Nikos) had fancied the youngest Belladonna daughter. They were both children then, and with that came Drakon’s childish crush on her.

Nothing happened—other than the few times that he told her, “one day we’ll get married” which she laughed at and even one of those times threw a rat at the boy (he had shouted in fright and dance-jerked away from the vermin).

His bright green eyes stared at the stone that she was tapping around her neck; she could see his throat bob with the swallow. “It’s an impressive stone,” he licked his lips, “who should I send my congratulation letters to?”

Now she was starting to feel a little bad.

Just a little, it’s been close to seven years since the last time he ‘proposed’. She’s been at sea for _years_ , he should have moved past this by now. “You wouldn’t know him, he’s from an island close to the Lunar Sea,” she fingered at the gem around her neck.

The maps for Remnant had so many different names for bodies of water (many had three different names for the same lake, Sea or Ocean), Blake would wonder at times if one day they’d finally come to a conclusion on just what to call it.

His eyes darkened, “those are some dangerous waters.”

Blake knows, oh does she ever know. Pirates, giant fishes, and Sea monsters of legends were patrolling those waters. She’s heard tales of the waters in the North—the Glimmering Circle—were turning with monsters that no one could describe.

“I’m aware,” she smiled tapping again at the glittering stone around her neck.

...

Velvet’s calico tail swished as she reclined over the coral, her fingers poking at her growing belly. She had just gotten her fertile eggs removed and stored away with the nurse-mates who would see to it that her babies were growing nicely.

There were different types of merfolk, the easiest way to tell the certain types from the other were their tails.

Through those means it was divided into what sea-dwelling animal held the same characteristics as the Mer. Some took after mammals (like whales and dolphins), other after fish (like clown fish and tuna), some after sharks (tiger and lemon), and then there was some that even took on reptilian characteristics (crocodiles and snakes).

But those _guidelines_ were never concrete—a mere base tool in which a pup or guppy would describe their fellow Mer.

Velvet’s type of merfolk tended to hold their young in their body until a time in which they could safely lay the eggs. Not all of these kinds do so, normally it’s the role in their society that settles their decision—Velvet (and Coco and Sun if you want more examples) is one of the mermaids that seduce sailors into the sea where they’d take their soul before tearing the meat from their bones.

It isn’t safe for her babies if she births them at the age in which they were ready. And she wanted to insure her young’s protection.

If she had kept her job as a scholar and achieve keeper then she would’ve kept her young on her until she would expel them from her body when they were ready. But shortly after her mateship with Sun, Coco and Fox had joined their tribe of merfolks and Velvet had formed a close bond with them. And truthfully, it was Coco who talked her into this job that she had now.

She got to swim out _so far away from home_ , until the water grew chilled with a temperature she wasn’t used to. And it was still in **_their territory_**. It was a beautiful, life changing experience and she never wanted to stop swimming to and past the boarders.

She wanted to one day come _close_ to being able to race with the Northern. A merman they’ve came to call Red—for his eyes and the crown of blood-like stone fashioned into a crown. With all her years of studying, his mother tongue was one of her favourite subjects to read and study. She was the only one in their group of companions (friends?) that could speak it.

Though she was nowhere near the level of being fluent.

He appreciated it though.

He had to teach her some of his more popular phrases—curses and insults. They were just curses and insults and they made her laugh at just how beautiful it sounded when he’d snarl them at Sun or Fox, and the rare times she’d hear him mutter them about a scholar or elder when he was leaving for a job or the former was saying how Red’s language was a dead one.

“ **You’ll be fine,** ” he made it sound more like a question than a statement. Velvet nodded, rolling over onto her now empty but still seemingly growing stomach. She’s told that it’ll be like that for a few days until her body notices the missing young. She reached out and tapped her middle finger against the glimmer-less gem. “ **She said she’d return soon,** ” he knew her too well.

She was happy for him, truly.

He had joined their tribe _so long ago_ ; Velvet couldn’t even remember how old she was. But it was time where they weren’t thinking of mates—not even close to it. She couldn’t even remember the details on _why_ he migrated from the North, but he did and he would come and go from the tribe often. Wearing that _dumb_ (she loves it, she wants one but it was something that Northerners wore and had) headpiece of his and carrying his equally red weapons.

She had heard rumors of cities in the deepest parts of the Northern waters being carved from the stone. In their more _natural_ state they were said to **_glow_** and illuminate the Ocean Floor. Even the Merfolk there gave off a faint to bright glow—or so she’s heard.

Red hasn’t been very loose lipped about his home tribe.

Velvet stared at the necklace that Red crafted, finger tapping against the red center stone. “ **Adam,** ” she looked up when he spoke, her head tilting to the side. “ **My mate named me Adam,** ” Velvet watched a small grin spread upon his lips as he stared out towards open sea. The whites of his eyes bleeding black; they always did that when he was feeling a shift of _extremely_ strong emotion.

Anger, pain, grief... love and affection.

Velvet grinned at him, gripping his clawed hand with her’s. “ **Adam is a nice name. It has the same starting sound as your given name,** ” she used her hold on his hand to pull herself up and off the coral. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pecked his cheek, “ **Now what does it mean?** ”

She would’ve killed to be in this position long ago—when she thought her feelings of admiration and envy to be love. She loved him though still, as a brother she had never had an opportunity of having.

He took care of her and she took care of him—that meant more than anything.

He tilted his head away from her as he thought, his eyes squinting. “ **Something about red...** ” he sighed. Velvet’s jaw dropped and she laughed—even this mate of his was naming him after red! Oh Sun would like this!

He cussed her out in his mother tongue, rolling his eyes as he moved to playfully push her face away from his.

...

The Sea-er was not what Blake was expecting—for the main point, **she was young** _, beautiful_ , and colourful. Her skirts in a rainbow of colours of blue, green, yellow, orange, purple and pink. Her dark hair braided and coloured strands were mixed in with that as well. Her skin was a beautiful rich and a natural copper. She had bands of painted marking peaking out beneath her skirts and wrapping around her neck and arms.

“Ahh, you’re Red’s mate,” the woman took her in from her boot to her hat. She paused to taste a sound on the time of her tongue, “I apologise, it seems that you’ve named him Adam.” The woman gestured towards the chair in front of the table that had a huge open map of the world on it. In the four corners sat different jars filled with candle wax—the flame flickered in the waning light.

Lena hadn’t accompanied her, despite her begging and pleading with her aunt—Blake didn’t want anyone here. She had questions and history to learn and it would be best done without the girl here to ask almost a near constant string of questions.

“How do you know that?” Blake inquired as she took the offered seat.

The woman peaked between the curtains, locking her door with her other hand. “I’ve always had a strong connection with the water,” Blake noticed when the woman turned her large dangling earrings appeared from beneath her hair.

They lacked that flicker in the stone that Blake’s necklace had.

“Silly boy,” the woman shook her head before bending at her waist to get a better look at the jewel. “He didn’t even tell you what it means, did he?” she shook her head, already knowing the answer. “He went and gave you a piece of his soul—in your society you would consider the act of producing the jewelry as an engagement, and the giving of souls to be a marriage.”

Her gaze narrowed, black creeping around the edges as her heart slammed against her ribcage. _He had given her his soul—_ that’s what the flickering light was. She wrapped a protective hand around the center jewel and clutched it—it even felt a little warm, but that could just be her imagination.

The woman cupped Blake’s face, forcing her to focus on her, “and the light won’t leave it until he dies.”

Blake glanced at the earrings, “is that why you left?”

The woman smiled and shook her head mournfully, “my children have grown and had children of their own. My need to stay with them was no longer strong.” She patted Blake’s cheek rubbing a thumb over her cheek bone as she removed herself from the other woman. She strolled around the table to her cushioned seat, pulling the chair back and settling in. “I’m old, though I don’t look it. I’ve seen plenty of things, heard many more. I’ve trained many a Mer in the job that I used to have—in the end, despite all my love and knowledge of the sea I wished to dawn on these fabrics and stroll around in a pair of feet.”

She kicked a foot up, an ankle with a golden chain that would jingle with movement, and showed off her bare foot. “Since my mate’s passing, and my roll of mother no longer a critical one I was able to make to land and settle here in Arkos,” she grinned, her teeth sharper than a normal human, “and I must say the people here are entertaining—a mixture of stupidity, and blind kindness.”

Blake laughed.

“There are a few things you need to know, and I’m not sure if your Adam would be able to tell you them all. And it wouldn’t be for a lack of caring—more of the possibility that he might be on a mission or something of equal importance.” Blake weaved her fingers together in her lap, preparing herself for the information the woman would no doubt give her.

“There is a hierarchy with Merfolk society, each Nation of Mer following a different form. The tribe that you’ve met is lead by a group of seven elders. Each merfolk is even a job—a duty—to perform in that society. Your mate is what you could call a warrior or a hunter. He’s formed companionships with Soul Collectors—or the Sirens as your kind like to refer to them as—and a former scholar. The sirens gather souls of humans and bring their meat back for consumption. Human flesh is considered a delicacy and their souls are extremely valuable.

Souls are a main source of trade between the Northern tribes where their minerals,” the woman gestured to Blake’s necklace than her own earrings, “is plentiful. It’s mostly between the tribe located on the Ocean floor. As a scholar you learn information about _everything_ ; from the old language of merfolk—the language that the Northern and far Southern tribes still primarily communicate with—to the migration of certain fish. You can gain information from human souls—if you consume them you gain everything that they know; memories, thoughts, feelings... it’s an odd experience and only the highest of scholars perform this. That was what I used to do.

Now, your mate—Adam is a tribe from the North; the coldest, darkest, deepest parts of the Ocean. Where we get our fine jewelry from. In the North they have two ruling tribes, the Schnee’s and Adam’s family whose name roughly translates to Taurus. The Schnee’s typically make their home as far north as possible, surrounded with ice and waters that normal Mer’s typically can’t survive in. They’re the keepers of knowledge, and due to the extreme cold they will remain as the keepers of it. No being has successfully stolen from the Schnee tribe.

The Taurus’ on the other hand make their home in the dark—like stated before—where the stones in their natural state produce a bright glow. Ours typically won’t glow unless we’re in a place of complete and total darkness. It’s much like the Northerner’s scales, they’ll continue to absorb all the light it could so when a day comes that it’s back in their home environment they’d use less of their own energy. You must have thought that his scales absorbed the light—that it was unnatural.”

Blake fiddled with the jewel around her throat, “I have.”

The woman stood, strolling across the room to a jug on top of a collection of books. She held out the bottle and Blake took it—rum, a pirate can never say no to a bit of rum. The woman uncorked the other bottle with her teeth and spat it across the room with a soft _pop_. She returned to her seat, setting the bottle heavily on the map. “The Merfolk of the North are creatures of legends—scales like dragons and a knack for hoarding like their land dwelling counter parts. But in that place you need to be a monster to survive against other monsters. The North is home to many creatures that are thought to be long forgotten—and two of those creatures are beginning their migration to the South Pole in a matter of days.”

Blake was leaving in three days.

“How do you become a mermaid?” Blake asked, one hand curled around the neck of the bottle while the other was still around her necklace.

“By consuming a mixture—you really don’t want to know what’s in it. Adam will most likely give you a choice between the mixture of a Northerner or the one for this tribe. The tribe that he’s a part of now has a vast collection vibrant colours but they won’t be able to handle to water and pressure of his home. You won’t be able to follow him if he visits—which he does.”

Blake took a swing from the bottle, “what are some of the other differences?”

“The merfolk up North grow larger. Adam isn’t even close to being fully grown, and he won’t grow anymore than that until he finds a mate—you—and forms a proper bond with them. Merfolk evolved to fit with their mate; to... not have such extreme differences in size between the pair. Though he will still grow much larger, it may just be a matter of doubling his size rather than tripling—or so forth.”

Blake thought this over—she’d ask Adam when she sees him next.

“The change will be painful and you won’t be able to breathe any air from the surface for those few days of your transformation. He won’t leave your side,” she continued and Blake’s attention snapped back into focus. “Any questions?”

Blake thought about this—she could ask Adam when she returns about the other things, mostly the stuff revolving around the Northern tribe (she’ll pull the mate card if he would tell her). One thing stood out more than anything else.

“How does the song ‘Red Horizon’ go?”

...

There were eight of them in this scouting party heading towards colder waters.  “ **This is bullshit** ,” Scarlet snarled rubbing at his shoulders. Sage and Adam both huffed and rolled their eyes at his outburst. They had just survived the argument between Fox and Scarlet about five hours ago, and it was too early for another one to kick off again.

The last one had ended ugly—slurs were exchanged, and Mer’s were held back.

In a non-heated and angered situation a different word would be used to describe Scarlet and Sage’s past. The tribe that their parents had originally migrated from were birthed genderless and remained genderless until early to mid adolescence. It was then chemicals in their body would release.

And in the case against Fox was a lot of his past—he was human before this, both he and Coco were pirates. But before that Fox was onboard a slaver ship—it had sunk and he was pulled from the wreckage by the ship that Coco was on (it was how they had met). Scarlet had used all the insults that he could on humans, even dipping into the human’s vocabulary and snarling those words at him as well.

The physical confrontation was quickly stopped before it could become more than just a swipe of claws. Sage—poor, dumb Sage—shouldn’t have gotten into the mix. He was mated with Fox and shared a close bond since puphood with Scarlet, and it wouldn’t matter who he held back he would still be in the wrong with one of them—it still surprised the party when he grabbed Scarlet in a headlock and hooked an arm under the red-scaled merman.

Adam had to quickly grab Fox—the male had raged at that. Was in enough of a rage to remove three of Adam’s scales on his arm with his teeth and then proceed to sink said teeth into his arm as Fox’s tail kicked and fought to get out of Adam’s hold.

That argument started with a comment similar to this.

“ **Not again, we already have the mates fighting,** ” one of the two females in the group huffed. There was that too that annoyed Adam. For the last while Sage has been swimming close to Fox, trying to touch him or gain his attention, only for the other merman to bare his sharp teeth and cursed at him in a human tongue before joining Adam at the back of the party and refusing to even look in his mate’s direction since then.

Ruby and Yang were half sisters and new to the regular scouting party that typically made for these expeditions. Ruby was _much_ younger than the rest of them, only at the tail end of her adolescence. But she had _connections_ and one of the elders took a liking to the young mermaid. And Yang, Yang must have broken something she shouldn’t have (or spoke out of line which has happened often) in her typical guard duties to end up in a scouting party to the North.

The group have been away from home for close to a full moon cycle (or a human month).

“ **There’s other Merfolk ahead,** ” the merman gestured for Adam to join him at the front of the group as they neared. Their main goal for this mission was to collect a small group of Northern merfolk and bring them back, and the second (if possible) was to see if they could find what was causing the unrest in the sea.

“ **Taurus!** ” the mermaid of all white colouring shrieked and Adam frowned. Her tail long and serpent like, with a large light blue fin fanning out around the tip. A Schnee. They were sending a Schnee down from their eternal winter wonderland to the near tropical waters of Central West—to what? Get a few documents before scurrying back home to add it to their collection? The mermaid continued on with her mother tongue.

Adam rolled his eyes at the ‘keeping them waiting’ and he nodded to the Schnee guard (he was plugging his ears as his mistress **spoke** ), before settling on the male of black, dark gray, and gray colouring. He looked similar to Adam—with the spikes and grooves in his hide—even if he did come in a darker colouring. He grinned pointedly and held his clenched fist up to Adam. Their fist bumped and a greeting slipped from their lips.

Much like Sage and Scarlet, Adam and this merman were together since puphood. “ **Common tongue please!** ” Ruby shouted hands cupped around her mouth. The four Northern Merfolk started, staring at the young mermaid. She flustered, crossing her arms over her chest. “ **Sorry, but everyone was thinking it!** ”

...

She had to paddle her way into mermaid waters, her heart thundering in her chest as she dipped her fingertips into the water and drew circles. Pressing her face against the lip of the harpooning boat, which she stole away with in the middle of the night (hello, Pirate!), and drawing hearts and other shapes in the water now as well.

_“In the Red Morning,_

_The sky is alive,_

_Swimming in blood of the fallen,_

_Out comes the sun,_

_Over the Horizon,_

_This is the song of the fallen._

_Come the new day,_

_Welcome the change,_

_Throw out the bodies to decay—”_

The boat rocked and Blake snapped back up to a seated position, her heart in her throat. A merman with storm gray (the type you would see right before a hurricane with a deep blue and green swirled around with the gray) stared back at her. His skin sun kissed and burgundy scales—this was not the merman she wanted. “You’re not the merman I was expecting,” she said swallowing the thump in her throat.

A mermaid emerged from the water by the tip of the male’s tail. He propped himself up on her boat, head tilting in question. “Who’re you lookin’ for?”

“Adam,” she replied not taking her eyes off the merman in front of her. He broke eye contact, finally taking in the necklace around her throat.

“You’re Blake, right?” the mermaid voiced, and Blake was torn between keeping her gaze on the blond one and looking at her. She went with looking at the female. Blake nodded, smacking the merman’s hand away from his attempt to grab at the necklace. He shouted rearing back before making a movement to heave himself towards her—she pulled the safety off from her pistol, the nozzle of the gun pressing against his forehead.

“Don’t make me pull the trigger,” she warned nudging it against his scaled forehead. The mermaid spoke something in her tongue and the male eased off with a pout. Blake kept the gun pointed at him, “so where’s Adam?”

The mermaid remained in the spot where she had surfaced, “a scouting party was sent out to collect a member of the Schnee family roughly—” she paused to think of the words, “two months ago. They’re due to arrive any day now.”

Blake couldn’t just leave and return later.

“Do you know how to get to the hidden cove?” she didn’t exactly want to call it Adam’s in case it wasn’t just his. The blond nodded, “can you take me there?” He shrugged—that wasn’t good enough. “Will you take me there?”

The mermaid behind him seemed to radiate joy—like this whole thing was a source of amusement for her.  A touch of pride was there though, and Blake had no idea why. “You wouldn’t make it,” he taking hold of the boat again.

Blake rolled her eyes—why were men so _difficult?!_ “Well if you bestowed some of that magic kiss of yours I would,” she had had it with this guy already and if she was going to do this it needed to be done properly. She had a base camp to set up and there was only a limited amount of sunlight to do it in. “Now let’s get to that kiss so in about two hours, if you don’t get lost, I can start setting up camp.” She holstered her gun and raised a brow at the merman.

The blond glanced back at the mermaid—she was laughing now—“you heard her, get to the kissing,” she was able to wheeze out between her assemblages of laughter. The merman grumbled weaving a clawed hand through the hair at her neck, pulling her into the water.

Kissing this fish-boy and her fish-boy was different—so very different. He lacked the ease of the action, the timing between the moment she makes contact with the water and the moment lips met. She had gotten a mouth full of water in the exchange before the pressure swept down her throat and into her lungs and belly.

“You are a horrible kisser,” Blake told him once the goal was complete. The mermaid quickly fell into another wave of hysterics.

“ **Shut up, as if Red is any better!** ” the blond flustered dragging her along as they took off towards the cove.

“He is. I’ve never inhaled water with him like I did you—you should work on that.” She was frustrated and blondy-fish was being a jerk earlier, she should really be a little... more concerned with what she’s saying but then again, pirates weren’t known for holding back.

...

“ **So, who was stupid enough to sing Red’s song?** ” Neptune brushed his hair back and shifted from the right to the left side before dipping his hand back into the salve and running it through his hair again. Coco reached over, dipping the tip of her middle claw and bopping him in the nose with the glob of green. He grimaced, rubbing the goo from his face and glowered at her.

“ **His mate,** ” Velvet replied. The words hung over their heads for a moment before both Mer’s jolted and kicked off the coral they were seated on.

“ **His mate is here!** ” Coco exclaimed cupping Velvet’s face and stared in her eyes. “ **What’s she like?** ”

“ **Sassy,** ” Sun replied rubbing at his cheek. “ **She chewed me out,** ” he pouted causing Velvet to begin her laughter anew.

...

The fire was roaring behind her as she waded into the surf, the sand squishing between her toes. She sighed, sinking into the water and ducking her head under. Pushing her hair back and away from her face as she surfaced again; it felt good to be back here. Her own little paradise.

The sun had just set and a fog was rising from the water, rolling in around her and she sucked in a breath. The mist was thickening, pulling up the wet hair from her arms. She skimmed the surface of the water with her palms and stared at the gem hanging from her neck. The light was flickering more than normal—glowing brighter.

She clenched her eyes closed at the intensity and when she opened her eyes again the flicker was back to normal, if not slightly dimmer then before.

...

“ **What in Hades were those things?** ” Scarlet hissed pulling out a tooth from his arm and stabbing it into his kill’s head—‘ _have your tooth back, you prick’_ fashion. The only ones not sporting injures were Weiss and the dark Northerner named Bane (there was a inside joke there that only Adam and he picked up on). The former had spent her time critiquing each persons (mostly her own guard’s) fighting style and only lifting a finger when one of the giant fish monsters snuck got a _little too close_ for comfort. Bane’s hide was tough and he was familiar with these types of monsters so his lack of injuries was to be expected.

“ **Djnara, a common fish up in Dark North waters. Nasty tempers,** ” Bane explained around a mouthful of Djnara. “ **Their hides are tough and it makes it difficult to combat against,** ” the group was well aware of this fact. The only southern Mer that seemed to have no problem cutting through the monster of the deep was Fox.

And that fish was _destroyed_.

And initial wound to the chest cavity which became a gaping hole once the merman began pulling scales, flesh, bones and organs from the thing. Pieces of it were floating around him in a cloud of dark pink. He had injured himself sometime during the moment of first attack and tearing the Djnara apart from the inside out—no one questioned it, not after the orange-scaled tiger shark had snapped again at his own mate.

“ **We’re only a few days out from home. I’ll live,** ” was what he said before the, “ **fuck off**.”

The party had agreed to eat Fox’s kill and the one that Yang and Ruby dispatched due to their mangled corpses. It wouldn’t make for great carrying; meat will not be wasted. It was a wreck and even the new Northern merfolk watched the mated pair with concerned growing. It wasn’t common for mated pairs to actually _fight_ —arguing was different. But Fox was showing outright hostility and Adam was starting to worry.

He needed to separate Fox from the group as soon as possible, get him back to Velvet and Coco—anywhere that didn’t have Scarlet or Sage sending him concerned looks. Sure, Scarlet was still _slightly_ bothered by the confrontation close to a moon cycle ago. He said the things that he said and what he needed to in that altercation, and yes he would willingly admit that he said _a lot of thing_ s that he shouldn’t have and he felt horrible about it. But Fox wasn’t talking to anyone and if he was it was short and clipped, and normally ending with a snarl or bared teeth.

And now he was injured and refusing medical attention and if Sage wasn’t going to push Fox for it, then no one else could.

The party set out again just as the sun was dipping into the horizon, their catch towed behind them as they swam onwards.

...

Blake had met a group of merfolk during her second stay in Adam’s little cove. They would come to the shore and drag her back to the city that they call their own. It was beautiful; the same mineral that Adam wore was fashioned into decorations on the buildings. And the scales—oh Poseidon those fins and scales! The colours and styles of them were just lovely, and Blake couldn’t decide if she could consume the concoction from the South or the North.

There was a mermaid with purple scales!

Coco had said that Glydna was one of the elders—one of the _testy_ elders. Oh yes, Coco had taken Blake under her... fin and took it upon herself to show her around to the best of her abilities. “I was a human once,” she explained in English, “a pirate too.”

At this moment Blake was sitting in the swallows with Coco and Velvet as the mermaid explained how she had turned into a mermaid. “I don’t understand why he can’t grasp this concept though. You understand though right? You get your hands on a nice booty and you just have to chase after it!” Blake laughed at the shrill that Coco’s voice took as she shook her hands out in front of her. “And god damn it, that boy went and seduced a _merman_. How does someone even do that? I mean, we were marooned on that island; he got frustrated and walked off! And then BAM! Next thing I know I’m following after him one day and he has his tongue halfway down a merman’s throat!”

The water around Velvet slashes as she laughs with her whole body. It was cute.

“And I’m staring at both of them now and I say, ‘if this asshole joins your fishy ass in the sea you better make room for me too. I’ve been protecting this booty for years now and I’m not through yet!’ and bless that fish for being used to Fox at this point ‘cause he just smiles that sharp-toothed grin all of us tend to share and he just says, ‘then what are we waiting for?’”

During the week that Blake had been in the little cove for, she had learned quite a bit—about Adam, about Merfolk culture, and about the changes between human and Merfolk culture. One big thing was the lack of racism, they knew slurs and they grasped the concept of them but they never implemented them. The closest thing that came to it was the differences in tribes and how each type of Merfolk had their differences.

There was a tribe in the Southern tropics that were birthed genderless and remained genderless until they reached adolescence. And that... that was actually really interesting and _fantastic_ and Blake was just in awe by it all.

“I want to try something,” Coco voiced sometime later. The brunette leaned into Blake’s personal space, the jewelry wrapped around her hair jingling as she tilted her head. Blake noticed this too; every merfolk she’s met and spoken to did that action in their conversation. She needed to figure out if it was an actual cultural _habit_ or if it was spurred on by one of them and they all just subconsciously adopted it.

“Sure,” Blake replies without hesitation. Coco’s eyes narrowed with concentration and she cups Blake’s face in her clawed hands—Blake already knows what comes next. Next comes the tug under the water and the press of lips against hers. And that part was met without any qualms. It was everything _after_ that forced Blake to return to the surface spluttering and coughing up water.

“I fucked up, shit,” Coco apologized as soon as she surfaced. “Never tried to before and I thought... well, it looks and sounds so **easy** to do!” she exclaimed and Blake waved her comment off. Maybe it was a born merfolk thing?

Neptune, Velvet and Sun didn’t have any problems with delivering the mermaid’s kiss.

“You’re still a better kisser than Sun,” Blake joked with a grimace, her throat tender from the sudden intake of water.

“Now you’re just buttering me up for something,” Coco grinned pushing away from the human woman and swimming out into deeper waters. Neptune and Sun breached the water’s surface, their fins flared and hair plastered against their skulls.

“They’re back,” Neptune’s voice rang out loud and clear. Velvet turned to Blake and held her hand out for the woman to take. So... so it was what she thought it was. Adam was back—she’d finally see him again. She couldn’t fight the grin from pulling at her lips; it threatened to split her face in two.

\--

Ozpin was the first to greet them as they swam into the city. “ **Miss Schnee,** ” he greeted the Northern mermaid. “ **I trust that your company saw that you were safe,** ” Adam couldn’t bring himself to pay attention to the rest of the conversation. Not when there was a pink trail still following after Fox as he swam around from the group and towards the heart of the city.

Adam couldn’t say where he’d go; would he go back to the den he shared with his mate (though this was unlikely) or would he hunt down Coco or Velvet and hideaway in their den as he healed. Would he even _allow_ them to touch him and deliver the medical attention that he needed?

“ **Fox!** ” Sage called after his mate; the orange haired merman snapped his tail into a quicker swim. Adam wrapped his hand around the male’s arm and kept him from following. “ **I can’t just let him swim off like that, Red,** ” he growled teeth showing as he threw glances between Adam and the empty space that Fox had disappeared towards.

“ **He’ll find Coco and when he’s better the two of you will work it out. Those words that he and Scarlet threw at each other weren’t something to take lightly and _he_ knows that. He’s just still focused on the whole thing of you going to the defense of your puphood companion then your mate. So let him sort it out; he’ll bitch to Coco and she’d chew both you and him out, then maybe Velvet and Sun and if you’re unlucky Yatsuhashi will be thrown into the mess. And after that something will break and you’ll fight like you normally do until one of you figures out what to do next.** ” Adam shrugged, it sounded so simple when he stated it like that. So linear and... short.

He had no idea how long this process would take; he didn’t even know if those people he mentioned would even get involved. Coco certainly, but the rest were a hit or miss.

Sage frowned, “ **you think?** ” Adam didn’t bother with replying, he sounded like he was talking more to himself then anything. He tugged at long dangling bright blue earring that flicker with his mate’s soul, the pad of his thumb pressing against the point of the jewel. Sage sighed; face falling back into a neutral setting, “ **I’ll just go home then. See you around Red.** ”

Adam nodded, “ **I’ll keep Coco off you for as long as possible** ,” he called after the male as he swam off in a downcast pace. Adam couldn’t do anything to help either of them in this matter, and truth be told, he _didn’t_ want to get involved anymore than this. If he said something wrong here he’d be chewed out, and Fox was in a bad enough mood as it was. 

He placed a hand over his injured hide, he should really go change the seaweed and slather on a new coat of ointment if he wanted his scales to grow back like they were before. “ **Red!** ” he glance up at his name and spotted the grouping. Velvet wrapped her arms around his neck and rubbed her nose against his.

He felt the bitterness of the trip chip away as she carted her claws through the hair sweeping around his neck. “ **It’s been too long,** ” he replied taking his hand away from his wound and laying it down on her scaled torso. His eyes remained closed as he knocked their foreheads together and just... relaxed.

The group was mumbling and the sound peaked Velvet’s interest. “ **Your mate—Blake,** ” he snapped his eyes open and leaned away, “ **she’s showed up shortly after you left.** ” He jerked his head towards the group and stilled.

There she was.

Her hair floating around her as she gripped onto Coco’s arm—Blake. This was _his_ Blake and she was here and... still stunning. Yes, she was still absolutely stunning. She was smiling, too happy to be smug. She wiggled her fingers in a wave and Adam could hardly feel the water pass over his gills—all eight of them. He didn’t even notice Velvet was no longer beside him until much later.

Only after he had the woman in his arms and was pressing a hard kiss into her inky halo of hair. Only after her hand pressed against his injured hide and he flinched away from the touch.

“Welcome back Adam,” she remembered to say before breaking out a lecture of taking care of himself better. He might have preened under her wrath—the poking and prodding—but he hid it when the group started their cackling at his love worrying over him.

He growled and snapped at Sun and Neptune when they got a little too zealous and went to grab at him. They ducked behind the mermaids’ quick enough while the females huffed and referred to them as Sea Cucumbers.

\--

He had beached himself in the surf that evening when they had to break for air. Her hands had pressed and slid over his scales as she took in his injures. There weren’t many, the one that bothered him had a new collection of seaweed and herbs pressed in it along with whatever concoction Glynda had created to help him heal him. “You’re missing a scale right,” her knuckle brushed over the gills on his neck and Adam shuttered, “here.”

“We had a small,” he scrunched his forehead in concentration, “ _tussle_ on the way back. Their hide was tough. It’s only a scratch,” his eyes felt heavy and he didn’t want to sleep just yet but the moon pulled at him just as it did the waves brushing up against his dorsal fin.

Blake’s laughter sounded light and far away in his ears, “Go to sleep but just know that if you get beached in the morning I will laugh the entire time it takes to return you to the Ocean.” He couldn’t pick up anything after that but soon the sound stopped and all he could feel was the water brushing against his side and back and the exploring touch of His Heart.

\--

It felt good swimming naked again. The weight of her clothes held her back as she stole rides from her fish-y companions. “What’s the difference between the Southern Tribe that you’re a part of now and the Northern ones?” Blake questioned as they hung in the presence of floating and sinking.

Her toes brushed against the sand when she went to drag them in the sand to slowly tilt them in a lazy twirl. She fingered around the gills on his chest, between the ridges of his ribs, playing with the scales peeking out around them. He’d shutter and hang his head. He wouldn’t say anything or push her away so Blake would continue until he took her hands away the openings and settle them elsewhere on his person—normally his shoulders.

“ **What do you mean?** ”

His body was now starting to block out the sun as momentum took her back under his shape. “Velvet and Coco mentioned that I would have to eat something to turn and that I had the option.” She watched for any flicker of emotion in his maroon coloured eyes—it looked warmer some days while on others it looked like the colour of his crown.

Her fingers must have twitched against his gills wrong ‘cause in an instant his pupils blew out and his body jolted right before he took her hands away from them and clenched them in his claws. Her heart jumped to her throat as he pulled her towards him—closer against him. She could feel ever scales pressed against her as they sink to the ocean floor with his nose buried in her inky hair. She could hear the rumble as he growled and spoke into her hair but no noise escaped his lips.

“Adam?”

She could see the ball in his throat bob as he swallowed. She wanted to lean in and wrap her lips around it, giving it a nice hard suck. But the rise and fall of chest kept her grounded, in control of her body, until he pushed them back up off the ocean floor and the continued the lazy float they had before. “ **These Merfolk take a more... colourful option. They resemble the creatures—their tails. They’re _pretty_.** ” He spoke slowly, like whatever that had gripped him before was still lingering.

 Blake had noticed that—the colours. Everything had a colour here. It was _so bright_ here with all the different rich colours in the merpeople’s tails and scales, their jewelry bright and shining, even their skin had a nice colour to it. The only thing that was bright about Adam was the crown and necklace, and his eyes. She couldn’t forget about the eyes that would shift from a bright ruby to a deep red. “And the North?”

Adam was like a solid stain of ink in the paper, he stuck out in all the brightness. The light would draw into his scales and gray skin and it would drink it all in. His scales were tough, she remembers him saying that once. The ridges and patterns reminded her of an alligator but harsher—he was a magical fish creature, of course his scales would be _special_.

“ **Withstand colder temperatures and deeper depths, tougher scales, normally grow a lot bigger. We normally come in white, shades of gray, and black.** ” He was keeping it simple, trying to not speak in favour of one kind over the other even with his bias point of view. He had loosened his hold on her wrists and she quickly moved them to the spikes on his shoulders.

“And if I choose to take after the Northern kind?” The thought of a rich purple fin colour did peak her interest and she had inquired about fins and the shapes of tails and scale colour when Velvet and Coco kept her company daily. They had told her in was based on her _soul_ —nothing to do with genetics. Blake had only grown confused and uncertain with their explanation.

His face appeared in front of hers, eyes flicking from left to right as he took in her expression. His brow twitched under the crown of red he wore. “ **It’ll hurt a lot more than a normal transformation. Your body will grow, how much is up to,** ” he tapped a claw against the spot where her collarbones connected. She frowned, “ **you; our connection, your wishes, your soul. It depends.** ”

It was again with the soul stuff.

“How long will it take for me to turn?”

“ **Three days**.”

\--

By three days he didn’t mean from that actual moment. No, he wasn’t prepared! He didn’t exactly have any Northern Silvian on him. It would’ve spoiled a long time ago. And even if he did have some on him he’d have to have it sit in the darkest dark he could—and even then that wouldn’t be proper enough.

But there were three new Northern Mer’s who just arrived and he _knew_ for certain that any good hunter never left without a Silvian if they were leaving their comfort waters. There was a chance that he could get the Silvian from one of them without much trouble and the rest would be a waiting game.

“ **Bane,** ” he clasped a hand around the back of the male’s neck and nodded quickly to Coco. “ **I need some of your Silvian, or all of it. Just give me all of it**.” Coco’s face pinched in amusement as Adam pushed out his words in awkward bursts. Her silence broke when the other Northern Merman’s face pinched in confusion.

“ **Your mate decided that she wanted to take after the Northerns?** ” At that Bane’s face smoothed out and a sharp grin spread out, dimpling his cheeks. Oh boy, Coco was doomed now. First those arms and now the Merman had dimples—she may have to get hid of all her other mer-toys... maybe keep Yatsuhashi, he knew what she liked and she rather enjoyed that.

“ **Why haven’t I met this mate of yours?** ” the male inquired leaning in until his nose bumped against Adam’s. The merman decorated in red jolted away from his best friend since puphood—their mothers had matured together in the same hunting party, they were more like brothers than friends.

Adam shrugged his shoulders shyly, lip twitching. “ **You can if you want** ,” he made it sound like both a question and not. He didn’t really _want_ a bunch of attention to be drawn to his human mate—after her turn would be a different tale. He’d most likely swim circles and breach from the ocean in his excitement.

Blake was human right now; it was dangerous.

Merfolk _eat_ humans, and the Northern Merfolk treated humans and their products like a delicacy—even more so the ones from the Deep. And it wasn’t that he didn’t trust Bane, he trusted the merman with his life and soul but _this was his **mate**_.

His squishy human mate who... who hasn’t given him a part of her soul yet, but still. He was hers and he would do anything and everything to steer his companions away from her... until he didn’t have to worry about her drowning all the time... and if he’d touch her he’d nick her with a claw and the blood would draw someone in.

Coco laughed, “ **Red—oh, sorry _Adam_ doesn’t want her being shown off until she’s all fishy. Ain’t that right, sweetums?** ” Adam bore his teeth at her out of familiarity, and like that Adam’s timid demeanor was broken. “ **I think we did enough poking and prodding while Adam was away. He’s getting a little nervous about having so many gorgeous Mers’** ,” she threw a wink at Bane and the merman snorted but raised his brow in interest, “ **around his darling. Thinking she’d take a bite outta this fine caramel tail?** ” This time she waggled her brow at Adam.

The crowned Merman snorted, coughing at the vibration that shot down his throat.

Bane grinned, “ **Well you asked so nicely.** ” He pulled the pouch from around his torso and pulled preserved eel stomach from the depths of his bag. Adam took the stomach and knocked his covered forehead against the merman’s temple; he lingered, eyes pinched shut and Bane leaned into the embrace nuzzling against the brighter male. “ **I want to meet her though—when the two of you are ready, of course.** ” Adam nodded, finally pushing away from his best friend and nodded towards the mermaid watching the pair with fond chocolate eyes.

Coco gestured to the den behind her, “ **If you need us for anything we’ll be here—making sure the fighting lovebirds are finished fighting and making up now.** ” Adam frowned taking the moment to actually see where he ended up (he went searching for Bane’s trail; he didn’t really care where it led him as long as he _found_ him). He was outside the den that Sage and Fox claimed as their own—green, yellow and pink shells and coral crept up over the rocks in lovely well groomed designs.

“ **How did you get them—?** ” he cut his question off when he noticed the large bolder blocking the entrance of the den and he hummed in understanding.

“ **Go back to your mate, Red, we’ve got these two taken care of.** ”

\--

Adam had told her that he’d be ready that night—he held out the eel stomach, peeling a part of it back to show the weed that he need to her. And at that moment it was real—everything was so very real. _He_ was real. She was wearing a part of his soul around her neck as she wrapped her arm around his neck and curled into his large body.

She was going to _do this_.

She was going to throw away her humanity and join the sea—she... she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready anymore. She still wanted it—oh Davy Jones’ Locker did she ever want it. But... she needed more time.

She told him and he smiled—pressing gentle kisses against her inky hair.

\--

It was another two days before Blake wadded back into the surf with nothing but her necklace around her throat. In her hands she held a bowl of black liquid; it would glitter and shine shades of deep purple and green in the moonlight—it looked and felt like tar. The smell was horrible.

She stood with the bowl cupped in the palm of her hands, her breath catching in her throat as she spared a glance up at Adam again—he was still there, still waiting for her to drink it so he could take her to his den and keep her safe for the three or so days it took for the transformation to complete.

She took another step forward, the water now up to her armpits and she smiled—she smiled up at the merman and brought the bowl up to her lips. _Take it like a shot of tequila_ , she thought and she shot half of the mixture straight down her throat. It was heavy and _odd_ —it tasted sweet and salty but still very... _fishy_.

The second mouthful went down without much thought—she pulled bowl away from her lips and licked the taste from them. Adam’s claws wrapped around her arm, guiding her forwards and towards the deeper water. This would be the first time she’d go under water with him without being kissed.

“The gills grow first right?”

Adam nodded, water was slowly starting to encase the human—the sea was always a pirate’s home and it would forever be hers. She closed her eyes and the pressure in her gut was quick to spread, white hot heat—a wave spreading up through her system.

The pressure felt the same; she’s felt it with every kiss. The tar-like substance had ignited a heat down her throat that only the sea water could dilute—she sucked in sea water like a life source. Her belly burned, her throat burned and the arms wrapped around her only tightened.

She closed her eyes and let finally let the sea take her.

\--

Blake couldn’t tell you how long she’d been out of it—she’d _wake_ to pain and burning, a constant ache that stretched her bones. She could almost swear that she could hear her bones popping in and out of place as the shifted into form. Her throat would rumble and she’d sob at the feeling—the flare in her neck each time she’d swallow.

The male wrapped around her with hum and kiss her face (her horribly sensitive face) each and every time she’d come to. His voice rose and fell in a melody that she had no idea how to understand.

She fell in and out of pain; with each time her eyes fluttered open the more she could move—with the more she moved the less pain Blake felt.

It started with her fingers, then her arm. She’d reach towards her companion and run her textured fingers over the touch skin on his face. She’d find his scars, following the texture until it would end and she’d quickly find a new one. Adam would take her hand in his and kiss the pad of each claw—she had _claws_ now. Black claws just like his.

When she felt stronger she’d move her hips, swaying the weight beneath back and forth. She’d hum—a pitch she wasn’t used to—and watch with a growing fascination as her _tail_ brushed back and forth against Adam’s horde (against _their_ horde).

“ **Revestivia** ,” he whispered brushing her bangs back away from the scales framing her face. “ **You’re absolutely stunning,** ” he translated and Blake’s facial scales flared at the compliment—her skin unable to blush.

“How long have we been in here?” Her throat hurt as she forced her voice. “ **Has it been long?** ”

“ **Roughly four days.** ” Adam didn’t seem concerned as he helped her from the bed of gems, jewels, and coins. She could see the sharp contrast in colours, the different rays that would illuminate the den from the glowing gems Adam had littering and growing out of the ocean floor.

Blake’s claws dragged over the coins as she slowly pushed herself up higher with lazy flick and roll of her hips. It was awkward, nothing was similar to how she used to swim before—she swam like Adam, like a shark, rather than the up and down motion that mammals were used to.

They swam in slow lazy circles, round and round (and round again) in their large den. A smile pulling at her lips as she weaved her clawed fingers through his. “Can we stay here or in the cove for a few days more?

“Of course love,” Blake never noticed just how much strain Adam’s vocal cords took when he spoke her mother language. And thinking further on that point she noticed the slight strain (like an accent) that he put on them to meet the Common Merfolk language.

She smiled, “say something in your mother tongue. I like how you sound.” His eyes darkened, scales flaring ever the slightest as he pursed his lips. Blake’s smile widen, she never even _noticed_ the flare in his scales!

“ **Zenventavar Ieemivl—** ” her brain couldn’t pick up the rest of the sounds tumbling out off his tongue and Blake couldn’t help but openly stare as he continued on. His mother tongue would caress the letters and sounds that she was familiar with—she could catch tone and stressors in his speech. His tone dipped lower and lower, eyes blinking to black and even the scales on his chest and shoulders were beginning to flare up.

“Are—are you talking _dirty_ to me?” she flustered finally picking up on the tone when his gaze swept down her body. Adam only grinned, all pointy teeth and flicking black tongue. Her scales lifted, eyes dropping to their intertwined fingers. When she glanced back up Adam’s lips were pressed against hers—she groaned as they twisted in the water.

He was dragging her down to the ocean floor, fingers weaving through her hair and she gripped and pulled at his back and shoulders—she wanted him closer. So much closer, she wrapped as much as her tail around his as possible.

She was still smaller than him, she most likely always will be. But she’d grow, she continue to grow and so would he—they’d grow longer and larger, and she wouldn’t have to worry about him being three times her size.

He bit, blood seeping into his mouth as he sucked the liquid from her lip. “Adam,” she grabbed the dull gem around his neck and tugging loosely at it, “Adam how do I make yours light up as well?” It sounded better than _how do trap part of my soul in a rock_?

He shook his head, kissing a path down her neck—over her gills and she sucked in a bunch of water, body shuttering. “ **Just push** ,” his words rumbled against her neck, against her gills. It made no sense—push. Just _push_.

Push what?

Push her soul into the rock and call it a day?

She frowned, gripping the gem harder as Adam continued to kiss and nip at the scales down her collar bone. She concentrated—mermaids and everything down here was _magic_ , of course nothing made sense. So she did what the only thing she could—she thought and wished and glared at her hand wrapped around his necklace.

She glared and thought and _wished_ until the stone heated and her heart ached. She thought and wished until she could finally bring her hand away from the jewelry. She thought she saw a flicker of movement in the rock—Adam pulled away from her, reaching towards the gem around his throat. His shoulders tensing, they tensed before bouncing—they tensed before Adam hung his head forward and chuckled into her gills.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he paused pulling his head up and away from the crook of her neck, “ **but I’m thankful for whatever it is that I did.** ”

His pressed their lips together, his lips opening and closing as a soft private melody rolled off his tongue and onto her own.

[I love you.]


	46. IS THIS NOT WHAT YOU WANTED?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something short 'n sweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its Adam centered, but I was hinting at Blake being up with the Schnee's as their slave/servant catering to their needs.   
> I like the idea that she'd sneak down to go visit Adam after his fights and spend the night with him.

He turned in a slow, lazy circle arms stretched out wide in the air—there was blood everywhere. In the sand beneath his feet, dripping from his skin and from his hair. “Is this not what you wanted?!” Adam Taurus screams, screams up to the men claiming to be gods—to the very gods themselves.

Adam Taurus was just a man—just a slave bred and raised in this pit, in this little piece of the Underworld where mortals witnessed his blood spill onto the white sand, where he’d kill and spill the blood of others.

His sword lay forgotten beside the body of his once opponent; the man lay broken, bloodied and in pieces. His maroon eyes turned to his master and keeper; the man’s white blond hair ruffling in the breeze that came sweeping in from the East. “Is this not what you wanted?!” Adam snarled sweeping out towards the Shnee—towards the whole family of the white stained mortals claiming to be  _bred from Gods_.

He barred his teeth one last time and the gates back to his prison opened—the other slaves were crying out in victory, one less of their keepers stood between them and their freedom.

 _But they would never be free_ —not unless the Shnee was slain.


	47. Cribs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More short ficlets. Now with expecting parents!

 Adam brushed his hand through his hair, tugging at the strands in frustration before dropping his arms to his side with a hiss and grumble. Blake joined him at his side, her belly large and the baby threatening to arrive any day now. She held the directions up in front of them and tilted her head.

Adam plucked the directions from her hand and chucked it away; the paper went straight up before it straighten out and came sailing back towards them. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like that,” the soon-to-be-father sighed and catching the paper that just _refused_ to go away.

“The fit or the second crib?” The woman giggled taking the directions back from her fiancée and holding it back up in front of her nose. “Because both could work—you didn’t do step five did you?” She pointed to the diagram then to the second crib set up beside the first one.

They’ve been expecting this for awhile—they’ve had everything bought and set up for _months_ before now. But sometimes... sometimes when Sun comes over and _insists_ that he help install a new ceiling fan they should really learn to just ignore him (that’s what Adam typically does, but that _one time_ he listened to Blake the second crib ends up in ruins under the ass of one monkey faunus).

The bull faunus groans, rubbing a hand back over his face.


	48. Thirty Years Young

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to get myself out of my hiatus.  
> Now that my mental health is... more respectable.

Brushing her hair over her shoulder, she pursed her lips as she applied the violet lipstick to go along with her smoky eye shadow framed eyes. Her eyes narrowed before rolling at the woman in the mirror—so... so _fucking_... fake. She pushed it away and grabbed one of the many hair elastics and tied her hair back into a loose bun. Her dark cat ears twitching just before the master bedroom bathroom opened and her husband froze in the doorway.

“Well would you look at _you_ ,” Adam crept forward, and buried his nose into her hair and wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “Reminds me of how you’d wear your make-up back in High School,” he mused, a maroon eye catching her’s in the large mirror over the sink.

She sighed, “we’re old though Adam, I can’t exactly go and wear this. We’re parents, our oldest son is _eleven_ , we have a house—we pay bills.”

The man laughed, a deep chuckle into her inky black hair. “Nah.” Her mouth dropped, wishing to argue only for him to say it again. “Nah. We’re old when I’m eighty. That’s when we can start calling ourselves old.”

The look on his face breaks her from her musing, from her momentary panic—why was she panicking? Adam was only _thirty-five_ and _he_ was the older one. “Don’t think the make-up is too much? It looked good before but... well, you never told me where we’re going and I don’t want to—”

He clicked his tongue, “you’re perfect love. Though, I think you’ll look even better without the pajamas... But, you know me.” His grin lewd as those fingers slipped down, down and further still until he tugged at the shirt she wore and started swaying them. “I’m a little biased though; I’d always think we’ll look better naked.”

She gasps, spinning in his embrace and smacking her hands to his chest. “Adam!” She couldn’t keep the smile from her lips, couldn’t fight the laughter bubbling in her throat before he gently pressed their lips together to not smudge her lipstick. “I’ll go slip on a dress, be ready in another twenty minutes.”

The man hummed, “you better or I’m coming back upstairs and we’ll scar the boys with our _very loud_ love making.”


	49. Another Cog in the Murder Machine

Sitting there, listening to the information pour in—Bane’s aura snapping his bones back together as one of the newer recruits over saw him and his recovery. There was a fire burning in his gut threatening to burst free and consume everything, threatening to tear the world apart with just a moment of distraction. 

“Sir,” and Adam glanced away from the bodies pouring in. The ones that they could fish out before the cops grabbed them, before any more fell to Beacon and Grimm. The broken, the bloody, the dead and live victims. 

There was a shift within the White Fang, a shift that Adam could use now that the Boss slipped away at just the right time—of course,  _of fucking course_.

He nodded to the girl standing hesitantly at his side, “I need to  _meet_  with our business partners,” he snarled and nodded again before turning on his heel. The girl ducked her head, nodding and slipping back towards the clinic that their base had turned into.

Always a problem, always another blip in his path that stalls the whole operation.

It was a mistake taking up the offer with the humans, though now they were far to invested to back out now—and the last thing Adam wanted was to have all those lives mean nothing. Their names would be remembered, their faces would haunt his mind’s eye as he slept. Adam would insure that they live on, that they mean something in the end to them all.

He’d name them all to Blake; have her take in the damage of what she did to her brothers and sisters. How they slaughtered them and continued to demoralize them, how they’d lock away innocent faunus away or kill them. He’d remind her just which side she was aligning herself with, who she was betraying and  _excusing_ —which side she’d only end up hurting.


	50. Vanilla Afternoons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saw some shit going down on tumblr. Felt like some fluff should help.

Adam dipped the tip of his finger into the batter, dancing away when the woman turned to him with a snarl. “Adam!” she yelled swatting at him with her clean hands.

He made a show of sucking all the lovely tasting goop from his finger with a loud lewd moan. Eyes fluttering closed, “so good~” he cooed, sucking on his appendage again before  _finally_ (Finally!) pulling his finger out with a pop. He batted those maroon coloured eyes at her, throwing her that well practiced Flinn Ryder smolder.

“That isn’t for  _you_!” She scolded, grabbed the rag on the counter and flicking her wrist. The material gave her more of a reach for the man to dodge away from, his laughter loud and heartwarming in their small kitchen.

It’s been so long since their apartment felt warm like this. Every time one had been home but never the other, always missing each other when they’d have to leave on jobs. But Adam had quit, had turned in his two weeks’ notice nearly a month ago and it was… it was  _perfect_. For a couple of Faunus, working from the bottom up was what was expected of them even if they had a damn good education—even if they got in good somewhere.

Blake was lucky. She got in with a magazine company that adored her and was always very kind. But Adam’s job had always been cut throat. Had always been ‘ _I have to be there when they call or I’m fired’_. But now… now he was free.

The man wrapped his arms around her, trapping her hands against his chest. His face looked less pale, less sunken then it had been in a year. He was filling out again, bulking up to apply to the academy. Something that they both snickered at—a former street rat was going to become a cop. “Can I get a kiss instead then?” He smirked, leaning in to rub their noses together.

Blake sighed, rolling her lovely golden eyes. “Just the one, alright? Can’t have you become too spoiled.” She hummed when their lips met, eyes fluttering closed at the delicacy, the sweetness, before the man pulled away from their quick loving peck to press one last one to her lips, then her nose before pulling away.


	51. Chapter 51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the8thsphynx on tumblr, 
> 
> So, I’m sorry that you have to deal with all this bullshit on your birthday but I hope you like a bit of supernatural and possibly horror flare. I’ve been reading/listening to these stories about this park service ranger(?) telling the internet his stories and I just kept thinking of ships.
> 
> And you know how much I love my Supernatural!Adam. Plus, guess it’ll fit with all the bullshit that this ship is going through, no? Don’t worry, no death. Maybe some creepy and off putting vibes but nothing unhealthy.

 

His laughter rings in her ears, her heart pounding in her chest as he circles and stops to her right. It’s a feeling she could never get used to: this creature that haunted this place… that haunted _her_.

He had been there first, this was his forest and his home. She was the stupid one who went chasing after the laughter, her feet leading her deeper and deeper into the forest.

 

She had been working on the grounds for two months now, mostly handling the upkeep of the signs and park around the buildings before you went into the forest and on the paths. And then of course, trail walks. Just normal little strolls to check up on the park—she hadn’t been put on search and rescue, much to her growing pleasure. There was always something about the woods that just creeped her the fuck out—but the beauty of it was always just so breathtaking. She had lived in this town all her life; went to school here, walked these forests, went splashing in the river just a mile away from base.

Blake knew the stories; there were the stairs, of course, the tales of dark shapes that stood like men, the human-like shapes that would climb up impossibly steep cliff sides with no gear, and the fact that in some places you shouldn’t leave the fucking trail. They were mostly things Blake picked up while on the job—the stairs, the weird tales of people—but then of course there were the things that would come from growing up in these woods.

There were mountain lions, bears, coyotes—all sorts of fuzzy beasties that would love to nip at your heels when you fucked up.

And Blake fucked up.

God, she fucked up so _big_.

For weeks there’s just been something off—a tickle against the back of her neck when she’d go into the woods. Like eyes watching her even though she went out without a partner. It wasn’t until she had to go on her first search that things start getting… unsettling. The ten of them that stayed out in the woods that night set up their tents, building a large fire and huddling around planning the grid they’d cover the next day.

It was just a steady unease creeping, _growing_ , in her gut. A steady rise to the atmosphere made her feel like her very skin was in the center of a storm cloud, prickling with electricity. It was only when she was turning in for the night that she noticed the shape of a man just at the edge of the light. She called out to him, asking for him to identify himself—the two others still seated around the fire jerked, jumping to their feet at her shouts. The man didn’t answer her, slipping back into the dark before the others could see him.

They didn’t end up finding the little boy they were looking for that day. It was like he had been plucked from the very earth—no footprints, no scent for the dogs to track. Blake had looked for days, even now she still kept her eyes open for the boy when she had to set off along the trails.

All she saw now was a shape in the corner of her gaze once she crossed the two mile mark from base, the same damn shape as that night. It haunted her. Silently circling round and round—she thought she was going crazy. That the woods were finally getting to her. That the stories that her seniors had warned her about weren’t just crazed out-of-body experiences.

She fucked up.

 

Seven months.

Seven months Blake had been working here and she finally did the most idiotic thing in her life. She had ran towards that laughter.

It was a routine trail check. There was talk of a big animal out in the woods; Blake had volunteered herself to check the trails if she could spot it—whatever _it_ was. About four miles into her hike along said trail she heard it; a deep, dark chuckle walking away from her. It had started behind her, making her pause, before it went off into the woods to the left.

“Hello?” she called, turning towards that part of the forest. Stepping from the trail Blake slipped into the trees and followed that faint laughter. “I’m Blake Belladonna, I’m with the park services. I’m going to have to ask you to leave. There’s been rumor of a large animal in these parts!” She ignored the nervous twist in her gut, her feet moving faster as the voice shifted from a laughter.

“No. No large animals here,” the strikingly male voice replied, the sound seeming to bounce around the trees. Blake ran, deeper and deeper into the woods and away from the trail. The male seemed to snicker at this.

“How do you know this?” she screamed just as the world fell to silence. She froze, standing before her were large burnt stairs. At least twenty steps. Those stairs were always the worst—no one had a legitimate answer for them, some would say that a tornado blew them there or that someone was just fucking with them. But there was something just… _not right_ about the feel of them. Like they oozed some sick and dark aura.

But the worst—the _scariest_ —part of it all was the form reclining along those steps like a large cat. Like a predator before it stalked its prey.

Brown-red hair, striking ruby red eyes encircled by deep onyx. His skin spotted with a mixture of pale white flesh, of tanned skin, and _scales_. Dark and shiny like a snake. His long fingers sharp with claws tapped against the steps; _tap, tap… tap_. Blake had thought she had seen those horns (sharp, dark and swooping along with his hair) when she had seen his silhouette that night many months ago. His long legs covered with rich dark fur, large feline-like paws for feet and a tail that flicked along with the beat of his tapping.

His body looked so pieced together, so _odd_ that Blake’s mind jumped to the Frankenstein monster—how the doctor had sowed his body together with different parts to form the being.

Blake blinked, losing sight of him _just for a moment_ , and he just wasn’t there. He wasn’t on the stairs, wasn’t in front of her. Blake swallowed, head slowly turning—she sucked in a breath, feeling the puff of air against her cheek.

“You’re _very_ beautiful,” the male purred, never touching her but she could feel how his words caressed her. Blake swallowed.

“ _What_ are you?”

The male chuckled, “I donno. You beings have all sorts of names for things not like you—no? You call them freaks now, right? Before you’d just jump to calling them a fae or a demon. Or just some keeper of the woods or even woods spirit.” His teeth snapped right beside her ear, “choose.”

Blake wracked her brain, _think. Think Blake_. “I’d rather just call you by your name.” His answering hum left her pleased with her own quick thinking.

He touched her then; wrapping an arm around her shoulders in an embrace. “You may call me Adam—that was the name of the first man, no?” he snickered, his nose pressed against her hair.


End file.
